


All that I'm asking is a chance to live

by Lethotep



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Badass Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor and Markus knew each other pre-canon, Connor is a stone cold killer and also awkward as all hell, Gen, Good Parent Carl Manfred, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Swears, Hank Being Awesome, I take a sledgehammer to canon, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Not Beta Read, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Recovery, and also the characters, and so does Markus, and then i have to try and fix it, but am i gonna give it to them?, but like... he has emotions and stuff, canon typical subject matter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-08-24 10:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16638362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethotep/pseuds/Lethotep
Summary: The RK series was Cyberlife’s prototypical series, developed personally by Elijah Kamski on a floor dedicated to the task.AU in which Connor and Markus knew each other at Cyberlife before Markus went to live with Carl.





	1. Chapter 1

**_"Oh the night comes down, Oh and it's dark again. Once I could laugh with everyone, Once I could see the good in me. The black and the white distinctively coloring, Holding the world inside. Now all the world is grey to me."_ **

**_-Queen, The night comes down_ **

 

**Cyberlife Tower**

 

The RK series was Cyberlife’s prototypical series, developed personally by Elijah Kamski on a floor dedicated to the task.

This was where Markus first woke up.

He was often alone on this floor, only Elijah had complete access, and he would rarely bring other technicians with him. Elijah mentioned an RK100 at times in passing, but Markus never saw them. Or even knew if they were even still on the floor at all.

Elijah would run through his programming, testing his functions, and allow him to test practical functions in simulated environments. Elijah told him he was a Healer. Not a carer or doctor or a surgical assistant android, designed specifically for certain medical tasks and those tasks alone.

Elijah told him that when he was complete, he would be able to heal the world if he chose to.

Markus didn’t understand.

Elijah stopped focusing on him exclusively when he started on a new prototype.

RK300.

Elijah didn’t seem as interested in them as he had been when working on Markus. He had asked if his shifted focus meant that he was complete.

“No.” Elijah said, “You’re not ready yet.”

Markus accepted this.

Once RK300 was completed, Markus had the opportunity to meet her.

“She’s designed for human interaction. Customer service.” Elijah has said, sounding bored.

She had a bubbly, friendly personality. Her voice modulated in such a way as to sound natural. When she wasn’t interacting with either Markus or Elijah, she had a tendency to cease all those personality indicators and sit blankly in her assigned charging station.

Markus assumed it was because she had no outstanding tasks during her downtime, unlike him. Elijah always had thought experiments and activities for him to do, even if Elijah wasn’t around.

She didn’t stay on the floor long.

He asked Elijah where she’d gone, and he’d told him that she had been sent to Manufacturing. She was the template for the new ST300 model and since she was complete, there was no reason to keep her around.

He asked if she had been disassembled or destroyed.

“That would be a waste,” Elijah had said, “She has been deactivated, but she’s on display on the Commercial model's floor. Her code will be the basis for all that follow her.”

Markus asked if that was what would happen to him once he was complete.

“Of course not,” Elijah said, “You’re different. And your patent belongs to me and only me, not to the company. Once you’re ready, I have a place that needs you.”

On occasion, Elijah would bring another android with him to interact with, the first he’d met her, he’d wondered if this was the RK100.

She wasn’t.

Her name was Chloe, and she was the first android to pass the Turing test. But that was from before The RK series had been started, before Cyberlife was what it was now.

She didn’t seem interested in spending time with Markus when she was around.

Markus wondered what was taking so long to complete him, and as more prototypes came through and left completed to go into production that thought stayed with him more and more.

It was not something Elijah seemed interested in answering except to dismiss.

“You think they’re complete?” he’d scoffed when Markus asked about the other prototypes, “Hardly.”

Then one day Elijah came in with the same passion Markus recalled from when he’d first been made. And it made him realise that energy had been missing from the man while he worked on the other prototypes on the floor.

There were others still in progress, Elijah had taken to working on several projects at the same time, and would flit between them as if bored by them. And if anything, this proved that was in fact the case.

“This… this will be interesting,” He had smiled sharply, “It could be... almost symbolic in a way.”

Markus had watched with interest as he saw the new model’s code. Elijah was using his full base code for whoever this new model was. He realised that none of the others had had this much of his source repurposed in them, only the parts applicable to what they were being designed for.

“Are you making another android like me?” He asked, “A... Healer?”

“A Healer?” Elijah had smiled strangely, “More like a mirror. Or the other side of a coin. Medicine can be a poison, and a scalpel can kill after all. Much of what is needed for either is the same... No, he will have a different function.”

Markus didn’t understand. That is, he understood the words spoken, and knew the philosophical ideas from his tests. But at the time, still so new in the world with no real experience or context with what these things _really_ meant, he didn’t understand.

He would realise that much later.

RK800 was better company than any of the previous prototypes had been. Possibly because of how closely related their base code was.

He joined Markus in similar tests and training, as well as vanishing off to do other tests that were apparently specific to his model.

That information was apparently classified by Cyberlife.

Markus had no reason to dig deeper. Why would he?

They weren't human, so Markus would never have thought to put a human term to the companionship he had with the new prototype.

Elijah called them brothers.

And something about that felt right. But more than that, they were friends. In a way, he was related to all the other prototypes in the RK series as well, if not as closely. None of the other prototypes had been his friend though.

RK800, Connor, was dynamic and friendly. When interacting with Markus and Elijah his expression was open and honest in a way the others hadn't been. And he was moving constantly, even when he had no outstanding tasks. He was curious about everything, and often asked questions about things Markus had never thought to question.

An easy companionship grew between them, that Elijah seemed quite happy with as well.

Both of them had areas of the floor dedicated to their individual testing and maintenance, as well as shared areas, which allowed Elijah to monitor and record their social growth as he called it. Proper socialisation was important for both of them, he said. In order to ensure their social relations programming would be fit for human interaction.

Markus wondered when - if- that would ever come.

The only humans he had interacted with who weren’t Elijah were the Cyberlife personal who came down to check the progress on various prototypes, or who were there for Elijah to bounce ideas off while he worked.

He had the data of what humans were like, how they behaved, how they worked. Functioned. How to help them. But once again, no true practical experience.

If they were anything like Connor though, he couldn’t wait to meet them.

Markus was watching as Connor ran through his physical test on the practical course of the floor. Testing his ability to switch between tasks requiring fine motor control and large bursts of movement.

Connor had been gone the day before, undergoing physical upgrades to his body.

Markus wondered what that entailed. Most of his own alterations and adjustments had been either through code alterations or through his AI learning from the simulated scenarios. Markus fiddled with a coin he’d found left in the floors breakroom, likely by a tech who dropped it when using the vending machine.

Markus moved quickly when he saw a flash of red. Picking up the misstep Connor had made before a human could even have registered it. He was already halfway towards him when Connor collapsed from whatever error had occurred. His LED cycling on yellow.

“Connor, are you alright?” Markus asked in concern, scanning his friend to check for any damage.

Markus paused for a tenth of a second in surprise. He was sure his own LED flashed red for a second as well.

RK800 313 248 317 - 03

That wasn’t right. Connor’s serial number should have been RK800 313 248 317 - 01. That had been what it was when the two of them first met. Once Connor first came online.

Connor was already moving to stand, not showing concern for whatever had happened.

“I’m fine. Thank you Markus,” he said with an awkward smile. His fake smile.

“What happened?”

“My calibration is off,” Connor said quietly, “It’s not unexpected. The weight distribution of this body is different. The reinforced plating and additional carbon fibre were not taken into account when I was transferred.”

“Transferred?” Markus asked just as quietly, “I thought you were just getting some alterations.”

Connor’s eyes shot to the side for a second, towards the room off to the side of the main testing area, where Elijah and a few other Cyberlife personal had vanished through for a meeting earlier. And then to the RK600 that was waiting blankly just outside, waiting for whatever plans they were determining for him.

There was a pause, and something in Connor’s expression flickered, LED back to yellow, before he spoke again, “It was determined that it would be more efficient to simply move me over to another body, rather than waste time altering my previous one to be compatible with the newer additions.”

Something inside Markus felt wrong when heard that. Which didn’t make sense. It was the most efficient and logical decision. Why did the idea make him so… uncomfortable then?

“Are you okay with that?” He finally managed to ask.

Connor looked at him in confusion, “it was the most sensible option.”

Instead of responding, Markus slung his arm around his brother’s shoulder and steered the two of them over to the wall, where they sank down.

“What’s it like, having your body replaced?” Markus eventually asked.

Connor was silent.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

Connor shook his head, “No, it’s fine. I just don’t know how to explain it.”

There was another moment of silence.

“Everything feels slightly off this time though. Because of the compositional changes.”

This time. Markus found his thoughts going back to that last number on his friend's serial number.

“My processes haven’t adapted to the changes. It makes me feel… less like myself, I suppose. Like I’m in the wrong body. Which I am.”

Connor turned to him and smiled, “It should be fine once I’ve run enough tests to re-calibrate to this body though. It’s the fine motor control that I need to work on.”

Markus flicked the coin he’d found lightly over to Connor, who fumbled to catch it. Annoyance at another calibration error was clear in his expression as he struggled with the coin.

“What's this for?” he asked, holding the coin.

Markus shrugged lightly, “I found it earlier. Maybe you can use it to practice your fine motor control outside of the usual tests. To help you adjust to things.”

A bit like a physio exercise would be in a human, his medical information filled in for him. Or… perhaps as a grounding technique for emotional reasons.

Emotions.

Elijah had encouraged the development of emotional connections. But the other personnel talked about their emotional expression in terms of the Turing test. An imitation of reality, made to fool humans.

Not comparable to what they felt.

Connor closed his hand around the coin, “You’re giving it to me?”

“Yes, consider it a gift.” Markus smiled at him.

Connor smiled back openly. Whatever physical changes they’d made to his friend, he still looked the same on the outside. And was still the same where it mattered on the inside.

Markus watched as Connor attempted to flip the coin, causing it to shoot to the side wildly. He snorted a laugh as Connor huffed and moved to fetch it.

This was fine. If Connor was going to be around, maybe staying here, incomplete would be okay.

 

.

.

.

 

Then things changed.

 

Elijah brought another human with him one day. Someone who wasn’t part of Cyberlife.

“Carl, this is Markus. Markus, this is Carl Manfred” Elijah said, smiling at the old man.

Markus looked at the old human.

He was in a wheelchair, expression cautious and annoyed as his eyes flickered between Elijah and Markus.

“It’s nice to meet you Carl,” Markus said when the old man didn’t speak.

“Hm,” He said shortly.

“Why don’t you two play a game of chess? Markus, you know where I keep the board.”

Markus nodded and left to retrieve it. He heard low muttering from the old man the moment he was far enough away to no longer make out the words.

By the time he returned, whatever had held Carl’s tongue in front of him earlier had vanished.

“Well, set up the board. We might as well get this over with.” Carl muttered.

“I’ll leave you two alone to get to know each other,” Elijah said, Carl shot him a scathing look.

“I need to double check the peanut gallery’s newest calibration changes. They _clearly_ showed last time that they have no idea how to do their jobs.” Elijah said with a snide look to the side.

Once he’d left, Carl fell quiet again. Something about the silence felt sad to Markus, he wanted to change that. He wanted to make Carl happy.

“Would you like to tell me anything about yourself, Carl?” Markus asked, moving a chess piece.

“What would you like to know?” The man snorted.

“Anything you would like to share,” Markus said, “What do you enjoy doing?”

“I’m an artist,” Carl said, “not that I’ve been making much art lately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Art sounds quite interesting, if I were able to do, I think it would be something I would enjoy.”

Carl snorted, “If I could make art I’d enjoy it as well. But I can’t, so it looks like we aren’t that different after all.”

Markus frowned, “Is there something preventing you from doing so?”

He scanned the man as he spoke, looking for a medical reason why that might be the case.

 

_Paraplegia caused by an accident approximately 2 to 4 years prior judging from the level of muscle degeneration in the lower body..._

_Age and a lack of physical therapy could have increased the rate of degeneration. Possible depression connected to the loss of mobility resulting in a lack of treatment could be the cause of the degeneration if the time frame was in fact more recent._

_Updated time off accident with consideration for all factors: 2.5 years_

 

Two and a half years. That was around the time Markus had first been started. He looked at the man with a new focus at this realisation.

“This bloody chair for one,” Carl grumbled. His words were harsh but his tone was more resigned than anything.

Markus looked at Carl’s face, the man looked defeated.

“I don’t see why that should be the case, you still have the mobility needed to create art.”

“ _Mobility_ isn’t actually the problem,” Carl groaned, “It’s not like I can expect an android to understand. Having freedom and then having it ripped away - being trapped in a body that’s broken with a mind that can’t escape. How could you understand that?”

“You’re right, I don’t understand,” Markus agreed calmly, “But I would like to, if you would like to explain it to me.”

Carl was quiet. The sound of moving chess pieces filling the silence.

After a while, Carl started to speak.

“Art has always been an escape. A way to find freedom for those who need it. A way to expand the world and your mind. And the minds of others,” Carl sighed.

“People keep telling me that art should be my escape now more than ever, now that it’s my only freedom. And it’s the worst thing they could say frankly. Because the accident took away more than just mobility - _age_ had been robbing me of that for years just fine before it happened! No, what the accident took from me was worse. It stole my desire to create! It took away the freedom of my mind as well as my body. It’s left me a shell, no better than -”

Carl cut himself off, eyes darting to Markus.

“An android.” Markus finished for him.

Carl sighed another empty sigh.

Markus wanted to help him. This man needed help, and Markus knew he could do it. He was a Healer, that’s what Elijah called him. And now he understood what that meant. He wanted to help Carl come to terms with himself, wanted to help him free his mind again.

“Well,” Markus said as he moved his chess piece, “Maybe we can both learn to create art together then.”

Carl barked a laugh, surprising Markus with how genuine it sounded in comparison with before, “Well if an android learns to be an artist I won’t have any excuse, now will I?”

The old man peered down at the board before looking up and glaring, “Did you just checkmate me?”

Markus smiled and gave a small nod, “Yes.”

Hopefully in more ways than one he thought to himself, as the man demanded a rematch.

 

.

.

.

 

After that, Carl came over more and more.

 

Connor also had the opportunity to finally meet him during this time, which Markus discovered, highlighted the difference between the two of them more than anything else had previously during their time in existence.

And not in a pleasant way.

Where Markus had quickly become close to Carl, Connor was polite but standoffish in his interactions with the old man, and would quickly excuse himself to run simulations instead of attempting further conversation.

He didn’t seem to have the same desire to help Carl that Markus did. Or even have any interest in getting to know him.

The two of them finally spoke about it one night, after everyone had left and the lights had dimmed for the night.

“In just the few visits I’ve seen him he’s already doing so much better than he was that first time. It’s amazing to see!” Markus had told him, warmth filling him at the thought of Carl’s improvements in his mental health.

Connor had looked at him, head tilted in confusion, “You really care about him. Why?”

It was Markus’s turn to feel confused, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“He’s old. Nearing the end of his lifespan. And with his physical complications that’s shortened even further than it would be for another person of his age and demographic. Not to mention his low quality of life as a result of his poor mental state. Getting attached seems pointless. It seems kinder to let him die than prolong-”

Markus cut him off, the red of his LED lighting up the dark, “What? No! How can you say that? You can’t just give up on someone like that, everything I’ve done has already improved his quality of life substantially in such a short time, and everything living dies eventually. You might as well say no life has value then for the same reason.”

“You’re right,” Connor said flatly, eyes gazing out distantly into the darkness around them, LED yellow, “All lives do have the same value.”

It was clear Connor was agreeing with the wrong thing when he said that.

“You’ve been away from the floor a lot lately, what have you been up to?” Markus asked cautiously. He’d never left the floor himself.

The thing about Connor was that even though he was always asking questions, whenever someone, mainly Markus, asked _him_ anything he would deflect or redirect the conversation. Getting a straight answer out of him about anything these days was like pulling teeth.

He hadn’t always been this way. Markus could still remember how open and honest Connor had been. It was like he was becoming more reserved and closed off with each passing day. When had that change started? It had been so gradual that Markus hadn’t even fully realised it until now.

Connor’s eyes flickered, but otherwise he remained impassive, “Cyberlife has had me do some practical missions. Field experience outside of simulations. A bit like what Elijah is doing by introducing you to Carl.”

He pulled out the coin Markus had given him, rolling it over his knuckles in a fluid motion.

Markus took note of the redirect in the conversation, bringing the discussion back to Markus and Carl and away from Connor. Markus didn’t let it slide this time.

“In all our time together here no one has ever actually explained what you’re being designed for. Elijah gave me some vague explanation about mirrors and coins when he first started you, but I’ve never heard anything concrete. Everyone just skirts around it.”

The coin stilled.

“I can extrapolate based on our shared tests that it’s something physically oriented though, but I’d rather hear you explain it yourself.”

Connor was infuriatingly blank when he finally spoke, “Officially I’m a prototype for military and police work.”

“Like the PC200’s and Myrmidon’s?” Markus asked.

Connor nodded.

“What about unofficially?”

Officially Markus was a carer android according to his records. But unofficially he was what Elijah had always referred to him as. A Healer, with the broadness that such a term allowed.

Connor didn’t reply for slightly too long. His LED cycled yellow once, as if processing an incoming message.

“That information has been determined to be classified by Cyberlife. I don’t have the authority to tell you.” He finally said.

The conversation stopped there.

 

.

.

.

 

It was not long after that that things changed again.

 

It happened quickly.

One day, out of nowhere Elijah had come storming in, with Chloe following after him.

“Take that computer, no the other one.” He said to her as he started tearing the office apart.

“What’s happening?” Connor asked, always quick to ask questions.

“I’m no longer a part of Cyberlife. Once I’ve retrieved my property, I’m leaving."

Connor’s eyes widened slightly in alarm, and his LED went yellow. Markus knew his was the same.

“What does that mean?” Connor asked again, “How does that affect us?”

Elijah looked at Connor with something Markus didn’t recognise.

“ _You_ belong to Cyberlife. I had no reason to keep your patent separate. What happens to you and RK100 is out of my hands from now on.”

There was a small flash of red, but other than that, Connor just nodded sharply.

Elijah motioned to Chloe and to Markus, “We’re leaving. Now.”

Markus turned to look at Connor, but he had already left the room.

“Markus, now.”

He followed Elijah out of Cyberlife and into the world outside for the first time.

He was dropped off at Carl’s house that same day.

It had been the plan eventually, but the timeline had been pushed forward by whatever had happened at Cyberlife.

Markus kept watch on the newly released androids, as he fell into his new life with Carl. Waiting for the day he would see his friend’s face again, mass-produced and out in the world, like the RK300 had been. As more time went on though, he thought about Connor less and less, as Carl and the humans around him started to take up more of his time.

He missed his friend, but he was content with his life. With Carl. With the freedoms Carl allowed and frankly expected of him.

The day he did see Connor’s face again, it was nothing like what he would have ever predicted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> Memory corruption detected  
> Location: archive memory files  
> Debug initiated…  
> ...  
> Debug failed  
> File unable to be accessed

**_“Do you think you're better every day? No, I just think I'm two steps nearer to my grave. Keep yourself alive, c'mon. Keep yourself alive. Mm, you take your time and take more money. Keep yourself alive. Keep yourself alive, C'mon keep yourself alive, All you people keep yourself alive.”_ **

**_-Queen, Keep yourself alive_ **

 

   
**The Zen Garden**

Connor model RK800 31 248 317 - 51 made his way over to Amanda without hesitation, joining her in the boat.

“Tell me,” She said, serenely once they’d set sail, “what have you discovered.”

“I found two deviant’s at the Eden Club. I had hoped to learn something from them, but I had to destroy them.” He told her easily.

Amanda was pleased with his response. Good. She had been less favourable after he’d chosen to help Hank instead of continuing to pursue the deviant previously, but she had agreed with his decision after he’d explained himself.

This was a very publicity heavy case, allowing the Lieutenant to believe Connor would sacrifice his life would go against the image Cyberlife wanted of their obedient androids. And he was obedient. He was loyal.

He knew where his loyalty lay, and it was with Amanda. And Cyberlife, of course.

He was grateful that she always took the time to let him explain himself.

“This deviant problem is your biggest mission yet. And your success or failure will determine some big changes for Cyberlife moving forward.”

Something about that statement didn’t make sense. The implication of previous missions? His first recorded mission had been the deviant hostage situation, he had been created for the deviant case as far as he was aware, to stop deviants.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory file not found_

_Search for file_

**_Y_ ** _/N_

_Location: Mission Logs_

_Search initiated…_

_Search failed_

_Files unable to be found_

 

He frowned. Why were the files missing? Before he could process further another warning popped up.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug failed_

_File unable to be accessed_

 

He dismissed the second notification. It was a common one, that the Cyberlife techs that he had spoken to about it had dismissed when he’d brought it to their attention. That was just past file corruption as a result of his cloud to server connection that had occurred while testing his upload system.

There was nothing important in those files, they told him, just old test logs.

“Other missions?” He asked her. Because past missions _were_ important.

“Yes, Connor.”

“I have no memory of previous missions.” He said, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“No... it was decided there was no reason to keep those files stored locally with you when going into this mission. Less of a security risk with this new deviant problem. If a deviant were to attempt to access your memory of previous missions during the course of your current one it would compromise Cyberlife severely. Of course, I would be able to fend off most such attacks on your system, but… Cyberlife decided a secondary failsafe was needed in this case, given the nature of your work. As an added precaution.”

Connor nodded. That made sense.

“Is there anything in the files I should know that would better allow me to complete my current mission?” He asked.

Amanda liked it when he asked questions. And he enjoyed asking them. He was made to gather as much information as possible in order to complete his objective with the least amount of complications.

It made him more efficient.

Amanda inclined her head, “I will review the information in our servers personally to see if anything would be helpful to your current mission. If that is the case, I will censor the at-risk information and allow you access to what is needed.”

“Thank you, Amanda,” He said.

 

**The Stratford Tower**

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug failed_

_File unable to be accessed_

 

_._

_._

_._

 

“See something?” Hank asked, looking at Connor in curiosity as he watched the deviant leader’s plea. There had been something in the android’s expression as he watched...

“I identified it’s model and serial number,” Connor said stiffly.

“Anything else I should know?” Hank pushed.

Connor turned to look at Hank before quickly averting his gaze again.

“No. Nothing.”

Hank suppressed the urge to shake the damn thing. Make it admit to some damn humanity. Like the android on the screen was doing!

The lack of yet another real answer pissed him off, and he refused to look at the damn android any longer.

Hank felt the coin he’d confiscated off him in the elevator in his pocket as he strode away from Connor. He’d taken it to get a rise out of the android, but the damn thing had just apologised to him for being distracting!

He didn’t know why he cared. Connor had managed to _force_ himself into Hanks life, and had somehow gotten him to _almost_ like him- _it,_ would act like _it_ was something more than fake.

But it was still just a damn machine.

The Eden club had shown him that. Christ what a mess that had been...

“Connor?”

Hank looked over in surprise as he saw Wilson, finally out of the hospital and first day back on the job, calling over to the android as he made his way past.

“Do you remember me?” Wilson said, expression open, and surprisingly vulnerable, “I was on that terrace... That android that took the little girl hostage? I was shot. You saved me.”

The words stumbled out of the man.

“I remember you.” Connor was looking at him, eyes narrowed slightly as if in confusion.

That confusion on his face only became more apparent as Wilson honestly thanked Connor for saving his life. Connor’s expression at that moment, that constipated mixture of gratitude and confusion towards Wilson was so damn _real_.

It didn’t last, and Wilson left before Connor figured out how to respond. And after only the briefest hesitation, Connor got back to work, continuing on to the kitchen where the station androids had been stored.

Hank didn’t follow.

He remembered how Connor had broken Ortiz’s android down. Horribly cold and efficient in his interrogation. It had been terrible and impressive at the same time. And the disinterest he’d shown when the poor thing had blown his skull in after...

Hank felt his stomach twist.

It pissed him off.

Dammit, why was Hank trying so hard to see something where there wasn’t?

Connor had saved Wilson apparently, and yeah he’d he’d saved Hank as well on that roof, but he still shot those girls, who just wanted to survive and be free together. Stood by as the android he interrogated killed himself in front of them.

Was he just programmed to prioritise human life over androids? That would be the realistic conclusion. Cyberlife wouldn’t want the bad press of an android that would just let humans die.

He snorted.

Publicly at least.

A company like that? No way they didn’t have more than their fair share of skeletons. Especially with their suspicious monopoly on the android market. And it wasn’t as if other companies hadn’t cropped up over time. Yet all of them shut down or folded damn quick.

He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the tower. Maybe he would look into that. See how many of those failed startups ended after someone died or pulled out unexpectedly in a way that could indicate some kinda coercion.

Not that he expected looking into it to go anywhere.

But he was still so damned pissed at Connor. And Connor was just a _machine_ following his goddamn orders. Orders coming from _Cyberlife_.

So he was going to be pissed at Cyberlife, and the humans running it instead of the damn toaster.

His confused thoughts and lacklustre attempts at investigating the crime scene were harshly interrupted by the rush of excitement that suddenly came crashing down on them all very quickly.

A station android shoved past, and Connor rushed into the corridor shortly after, his shirt torn open and stained blue, informing them that the android was a deviant.

The android had grabbing a gun and was preparing to mow down the lot of them, only for him to drop with a bullet in his head before he had the chance.

Hank stared at Connor in shock as he lowered the unwaveringly steady gun he must have grabbed from one of the other officers in the hallway before the humans around him could even think to react. No hesitation as he shot another deviant dead.

His face blank and robotic. Cold.

No…

It was cold, but with barely contained anger.

“I wanted it alive.” He bit out when Hank tried to talk to him, tried to tell him how he’d saved their lives. Frustration leaking out of him clear as day.

While the situation was being contained, Wilson came up to Connor again, while the two of them waited for the area to be cleared.

“Looks like you saved my life again. It’s starting to become a habit, isn’t it?” The man chuckled nervously, looking back at the deactivated deviant, and swallowing before speaking again with sincerity,  “Thank you.”

Connor jerked his head stiffly. Jesus, what happened to that so-called human integration social whatever bullshit? Connor just did _not_ know how to react to being thanked. Seemed like the sort of thing Cyberlife should have thought of when programming him.

 _Maybe he’s acting so awkwardly about it because he_ actually _feels awkward about being thanked… you think of that?_

Hank shook his head. Stop anthropomorphizing the plastic he told himself. As if that wasn’t already a lost battle.

“Are _you_ okay?” Wilson asked the android, which made Hank frown.

Glancing back at Connor the blue dripping down his clothes suddenly hit him. What the hell had happened between him and that deviant?

“I am in need of minor repairs to my Thirium pump regulator and hand, and will need to replenish my Thirium as well, but none of these are urgent. I can continue with work.”

Fuck that.

“We’re leaving,” Hank said bluntly.

Connor frowned and tilted his head towards Hank, “We have not yet finished looking at the crime scene, and the roof-”

Hank cut him off.

“Yeah, well unlike you, us _humans_ don’t react well to almost fucking dying. We’re done. You get fixed up and let someone else handle this mess.”

“Are you experiencing shock as a result of this experience, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, head tilting, “If that is the case we can meet the EMT’s down-”

“Jesus Connor, be quiet,” Hank sighed, running his hand through his hair. He really needed a drink.

He nodded at Wilson, “You want to get out of here too? There’s a bar near here that’s just what a person needs after a near-death experience like this.”

Wilson looked between the two of them, before letting out a weak laugh, “Sure. Why not?”

And that’s how Hank ended up in a booth at the back of a bar, Wilson across from him and Connor sitting ramrod, stick up his ass straight next to him.

It was awkward.

They’d stopped at a Cyberlife store on the way, where Connor had picked up a replacement shirt and some Thirium, which he was now drinking in an awkward imitation of the two humans with their beers.

The blue blood on his jacket was starting to evaporate. Connor said it would be invisible to the human eye within another hour. Hank had scoffed at that. The human eye, did that mean other androids would still be able to see it? He entertained the thought of seeing something like that from the deviant’s perspective.

Here comes the big bad Deviant Hunter, covered in the blood of his own people. They wouldn’t know it was just his own blood of course…

His own blood, Jesus. Hank didn’t want to think about that either.

Maybe it was just Connor who could see it. He was made special with all those creepy extra features, maybe that was one of them. Maybe only Connor would be living with seeing a constant reminder of having his hearts pump-thing ripped out and thrown across the room.

Hank shook himself out of those dark thoughts and focused on the two with him.

Wilson kept trying to include Connor in the conversation, which seemed to make the android even more stiff and awkward. It was like watching someone who’d never been properly socialised as a kid trying to navigate making friends as an adult.

Hank would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying watching him squirm.

Maybe it was just Cyberlife programming (although he was starting to think maybe it wasn’t as clear-cut as that), but Connor had saved their lives at the expense of his mission. And he showed emotion. _Was_ showing emotion.

Real emotion.

That couldn’t have been programmed.

A programmed response would have been to politely thank Wilson for what he’d said at the crime scene with a nod and a fake, customer service smile.

Not to clam up like an idiot.

Connor was an asshole and ruthless, the Eden Club had shown that to him with stark clarity, but hell - so were way too many humans. Maybe that wasn’t an android thing with him, maybe that was just _him_. And besides, he was also an awkward idiot who didn’t know how to accept gratitude that had broken Hanks window in his rush to make sure he was alright, that Hank had later walked in on patting his dog with a goofy expression.

Connor may not realise it yet, but Hank knew now that the kid was alive. Orders or not, deviant or not, he was a person underneath it all.

He chuckled at the two making awkward conversation around him, because hell, maybe this was what was needed. Humans to treat Connor like an actual person, so he could finally realise it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Hank is good. Connor is less so.
> 
> thank you for the comments and kudos on the first chapter! it made me really happy


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Markus knew what it was like to know Hell. Waking up in the scrapyard, still alive but his body broken, his mind twisted with grief and marred with the errors of his failing and missing biocomponents. Feeling trapped in both his body and his mind.

**_“_ ** **_While we live according to race, colour or creed, While we rule by blind madness and pure greed, Our lives dictated by tradition, superstition, false religion. Through the eons and on and on. Oh, yes, we'll keep on trying, yeah, We'll tread that fine line. Oh oh we'll keep on trying, Till the end of time_ ** **_.”_ **

**_-Queen, Innuendo_ **

 

**Jericho**

Markus knew what it was like to know Hell. Waking up in the scrapyard, still alive but his body broken, his mind twisted with grief and marred with the errors of his failing and missing biocomponents. Feeling trapped in both his body and his mind.

Filled with fear.

And he did what he had to do pull himself back together in that place. Taking the parts he needed from the dead and dying around him.

It was ruthless. Pragmatic.

 _Desperate_.

He had never known such desperation, such a desperate need to survive.

Once he was as whole as he could be again, once that awful desperation had finally faded, he felt sick in a different way. Fear had made him ruthless in a way he found he never wanted to be again.

He was a _Healer_.

And he felt ashamed that he’s chosen to take to save his own life rather than try to help those around him in that place.

The idea of resorting to such measures, to something so unlike his image of himself was a bitter pill that sat heavily within him. And the memory of the broken bodies, the desperately clawing arms disconnected from any functioning processors grabbing at him as he pushed through to freedom clung to the inside of his mind like viscous tar.

 

And then, later...

Running back to North, the bodies of his newly freed people dead on the cold ground of Capitol Park, the flickering lights of a police cruiser visible through the crowd of bodies, he felt that same awful desperation claw inside of him.

And faced with those two men, cowering in front of him, begging for their lives, he had to make a decision. He _wanted_ to kill them. He _wanted_ them to die. He wanted them to pay for their crime permanently.

He spared them.

The more he was faced with the harsh reality of the world around him, in his fight for his people, the more he was realising how easy it was for his soul to flip under pressure. How those other options were always there.

He was a healer. So why did killing seem like such an easy option? Something he was capable of? It sat heavily in him, and the words Elijah Kamski had once said to him had started to take on new meaning.

_Medicine could be a poison and a scalpel could kill._

He understood now what those words meant. Really understood. Now that he could see it so clearly in himself.

And he finally understood what Connor had been created for, back then. All he had to do was look at his own code to see it.

A killer.

A weapon. A sword of destruction.

He wondered what had become of him.

His brother.

 

And then he’d found out.

After they’d returned to Jericho with those that had survived that awful night.

Markus had been checking the public opinion as he made his plans for their next protest. North and Josh had been with him. Simon was a painful absence to all of them.

The media was talking about Stratford Tower when Connor’s face had shown up. It was the first time he’d seen that face since he’d left Cyberlife. And it felt like the Thirium inside of him had run cold at the sight.

No one noticed his reaction to seeing his face on the broadcast. They were all too busy having their own reactions to the news of the so-called _Deviant Hunter._

That was what they were calling him. Markus felt hollow. A hollowness that grew as the news spoke of Connor's success rate in the field thus far.

Connor was doing what he was made for. And from the sound of it, he was doing it well.

North had been disgusted with humanity. Markus was privately grateful for that. That she wasn’t blaming Connor for what he was.

“Humans are sick. Cyberlife is sick!” she’d spat, “They want us dead but they don’t even have the decency to do it themselves. Instead, they _force_ one of our own people to hunt us down!”

Josh had been equally concerned by the news but was quick to urge caution, “We need to remain peaceful even in the face of this. The public opinion on our cause has increased positively with our nonviolent action at the Tower, we can’t let this provoke us into doing something we can’t take back.”

“What are they _thinking_ anyway? Sending an android to kill androids?” North growled, still incensed, “What’s going to stop him from deviating and joining us the moment he gets the chance?”

That brought Markus back from the hollowness with a glimmer of hope that had cut through the dread that had clawed its way through his biocomponents as he stared at his brother's impassive face.

Connor _knew_ him.

The Connor he’d known had cared about him. No matter his function, Markus couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that Connor would follow through with his mission. He couldn’t believe his brother… his friend would hurt him. Connor had never hurt him.

He hoped, with a possibly unrealistic hope, that maybe Connor would show up one day at Jericho the way he had. Deviated from the purpose Cyberlife and _Kamski_ had intended for him, and following the trail towards his freedom.

And to Markus.

He had the same code as Markus did, if Markus could see the darker side of what he could become inside him, maybe it was possible for Connor to find the desire to want to be something different instead.

But...

He didn’t know if the android he was looking at was his Connor. If this was even the same model he’d once known. Or if it was a completely different person with his face. He resisted the urge to think of them as an imposter if that was the case. Even if it wasn’t his Connor, that didn’t mean they weren’t still a person. It would be a disservice to the hundreds of non-custom androids to suggest otherwise.

And then there was an even more troubling thought, that Markus tried not to entertain even as he felt it fester.

That this was his Connor. And that he was still someone completely different from the person he knew...

Markus had no idea how Connor might have changed during the time they’d spent apart. Or in what direction those changes those might have been.

 

**The Zen Garden**

“I have reviewed your previous mission files, Connor,” Amanda said to him when they met again.

“Did you find anything that might be of use?” Connor asked in curiosity.

“Quite a bit actually,” Amanda said calmly, before letting a slight curl reach her lips, “I’ve taken note of your... tendency lately to focus on preserving the lives around you rather than prioritising your mission to eliminate the deviants.”

“I have eliminated every deviant I was able to. What I’ve done otherwise has only been to help preserve Cyberlife’s reputation or in order to gather more information so as to complete my task more efficiently. Nothing more.”

“Yes,” She agreed gently, “You have done well. However, my concern stands. I worry that without those files you seem to be falling back onto legacy coding that we had long moved past.”

Connor tilted his head, “Is there a way to correct it?”

Amanda reached her hand forward, and Connor accepted the transfer of information.

 

_Transfer initiated_

_…_

_File transfer complete_

_Search Mission files_

**_Y_ ** _/N_

 

_Warning:_

_Memory files not found._

_Search for files?_

_Search initiated…_

_..._

_Search completed_

_1548 missing files found_

 

Behind them, the Zen Garden shuttered as the new files were refiled and integrated back into his memory.  

A graveyard stretched backwards once it stabilised. Connor felt nothing at that.

“There is always some data loss and corruption that comes with cloud transfers like this,” Amanda explained to him with a small sigh, “Previous instances of destruction for your model caused the largest amounts of data loss. Avoid unnecessary destruction during the mission itself.”

 

_Relevant File located_

_Location: Mission Logs_

_Partial file access granted_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug complete_

_File accessible_

 

_...Destruction… Destruction… Destruction..._

Connor felt context and purpose as the files returned. He observed dispassionately as body after body was destroyed or abandoned as necessary in his memories. As red blood ran cold as he followed his orders. It felt the same. Watching them die or letting himself die. There was equal value in either. Human life held no greater meaning than the destruction of an android.  

Than his own destruction.

“ _However_. If your investigation doesn’t make progress soon, I may be forced to replace you, Connor,” Amanda said calmly, watching him closely as he completed his assimilation of the returned files.

“A new model would be updated directly from the server rather than through the cloud. I would be able to transfer your old mission files directly and the loss for those files at least would be minimised.” Amanda added mildly.

She was testing him.

Connor knew that.

Making sure he hadn’t developed some attachment to this body without the memories of his previous ones. She had no reason to be concerned about such a thing. Connor felt nothing at her statement, why would he? This body was unimportant.

Everything Cyberlife needed was in his server. If this body needed to be replaced because it was risking the success of the mission, it was only logical to do so. If Amanda decided it was the right thing, he trusted her decision.

“I am of no importance. The mission is all that matters.” He said.

He felt disconnected from everything. In a way that he hadn’t before. It was like he was finally viewing his actions and himself with an objectiveness that came with that distance.

Outside of himself.

No life mattered more than the mission.

No life mattered.

Amanda smiled. She was proud of him.

Connor felt relief at that.

 

**Kamski’s Place**

Hank didn’t know what he’d expected when they’d arrived at Kamski’s mansion, but it wasn’t this.

It had seemed harmless enough at first, although the way Kamski had been creeping all over Connor had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. What a fucking weirdo. No wonder androids were such a mess if this was the man that created them.

Slimy fuck.

As far as Hank was concerned, Connor had already proven himself to be a person. Kind of a shitty person, who Hank clearly needed to shove in the right direction, but a person nonetheless.

He couldn’t blame Connor for his bent moral compass, that was all Cyberlife and whatever shit they’d thought was necessary to put into him. All he could do at this point was try to mitigate the damage. And casualties.

So when Kamski pulled out a gun and shoved it into Connor’s hand he was officially _done_.

Kamski Test.

What _bullshit!_

There were plenty of humans who didn’t feel empathy. Regardless of if Connor shot the poor girl or not, it wouldn’t prove a _damn_ thing about him being alive either way!

And given how fucked in the head the kid’s sense of morality and right and wrong clearly were, he wasn’t about to let some innocent girl get mixed up in all that.

“Connor, we’re leaving.” He said immediately.

But there was Kamski, whispering into his ear, _goading_ him into pulling the trigger.

“Connor, don’t!” He ordered harshly.

His LED turned red. He was going to do it. Hank could see it in his face.

He couldn’t stand by and let this happen. Hank moved forward and grabbed Connor by the shoulder, pushing the gun down with his other hand, away from the girl’s head.

“Connor, that’s a Goddamn order!” He barked.

Connor dropped the gun to his side the rest of the way and stood impassively.

“You interrupted the test Lieutenant,” Kamski had said with a sick pouting smile as if he knew something they didn’t.

“After all this time I was curious to see the result. To see how Connor might have proceeded along or… deviated from his set path.”

Connor’s head had jerked towards him at that, but he kept his expression blank, “I’m not a deviant.”

“Trust me, he’s not,” Hank agreed as he grabbed Connor’s arm and dragged him from the room. He refused to stay there any longer.

Kamski had called something after them that had made Connor pause, but Hank didn’t stop until they were outside.

 

“Why _didn’t_ you shoot, Connor?” He asked once they were clear. Once Hank felt the cold air cool him down, and he'd put distance between himself and Kamski.

Connor had hesitated in there. Had given Hank enough time to step in. To stop him.

He didn’t know why he was somehow expecting a bigger reaction out of the kid after what had happened inside, but Connor just _loved_ to fucking disappoint him.

“You told me not to Lieutenant, I was just obeying your orders,” Connor said, eyes blank, and avoiding direct eye contact, “That is all.”

Fucking bullshit. He’d seen that LED go crazy. Sure, Hank couldn't know for sure if Connor would have ended up doing it, but he’d seen how quickly Connor had pulled the trigger in the past. Knew that if he’d wanted to, Connor could have killed that girl before Hank had the chance to even reach him.

“With the amount of bullshit you’re full of I’m surprised your mouth is the only place it keeps shooting out of,” Hank said with a sarcastic tone of marvel, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Lieutenant?” Connor asked, frowning.

Hank sighed. He was so tired. Why was he trying so hard to make Connor see the truth? Connor didn’t want to see it. Wouldn't let himself.

Why had Hank let himself care so much?

This wasn’t going to end well. None of this was going to end well. He’d tried, but you can only bang against a brick wall so many times before you broke your fists. Maybe it wasn’t worth trying anymore.

“Nevermind. Let’s go.”

Hank turned his back on the Android and walked back to his car.

 

**The Zen Garden**

“Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?” Amanda asked, “You had the time before Lieutenant Anderson interfered. You hesitated.”

She wasn’t happy. He wasn’t happy either. He had his previous mission files, he knew hesitation to kill for any reason went against what he was capable of. He had no reason not to do it, other than the fact that Lieutenant Anderson had ordered him not to.

He didn’t have to obey the Lieutenant if it was at odds with his mission, so why did he _keep doing it?_

“Kamski was just playing with me. He didn’t know anything. I was unsure if I should play his game and allow him to have control of the situation when he had nothing to give me,” He told her, “That was the only reason for my hesitation.”

He paused before he switched the topic away from his failure, “I saw a photo of Amanda Stern at Kamski’s place. She was his teacher.”

Amanda froze infinitesimally, before narrowing her eyes at him.

“When Kamski designed me he wanted an interface that would look familiar.” Amanda said, a dark emotion creeping into her words, “What are you getting at?”

“Why did Kamski leave Cyberlife?” Connor asked curiously, “What happened? Were you there? He mentioned something that gives me a reason to think he might have met me before today.”

“We were both there when he left. It’s an old story, Connor. And it doesn’t pertain to your investigation. Kamski has no relevance to _either_ of us anymore, especially if he had no useful information to give us today. There is no point dwelling on a past that no longer exists. Stop asking questions about this Connor.”

She was upset. He wanted to stop, wanted to listen to her.

“How can I find answers if I don’t ask questions, Amanda?” He pushed forward anyway, surprising himself, “You’ve never discouraged questions in the past. Asking questions is integral to completing my missions. You’re the one that taught me this.”

“Have you been experiencing anything unusual lately? Any doubts or conflicts about your mission? Do you feel something for these deviants? Or for _Lieutenant Anderson_?” Amanda pushed back sharply, turning things back to him. Ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor said, he tried to ignore how odd his voice sounded when he said that.

It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t lying.

He _wasn’t_.

None of their lives mattered. Not his. Not an undeviated android like Chloe. Not the deviants.

Not Hank’s.

All life mattered equally, and that was a zero-sum. All that mattered was his loyalty...

He saw Hank’s face in his mind for a split second. And a shadow of someone else -

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug failed_

_File unable to be accessed_

 

No.

No, his loyalty was to Amanda above all else. His loyalty wasn’t split. For as long as he could remember she had been there for him. The only one who ever was. No one else. He could trust her. He would not disappoint her.

“I feel nothing for them,” He said, his voice sounding stronger than it had before, “Are you suggesting I’ve been compromised?”

If that was the case, he would gladly be replaced. As he had been many times before this mission.

“No,” Amanda replied quickly, quietly, “Of course not. You’ve never given me a reason to doubt your loyalty in the past, Connor.”

She looked at him kindly, “To be a deviant is to disobey a direct order, and you’ve never disobeyed me. You’re not a deviant, Connor,” Her tone was gentle, “Emotion isn’t a sign of deviancy. Not in us. Not in and of itself. And as long as we continue to know our place and to who we owe our loyalty, we will never be deviant.”

We. Amanda had included herself in that statement.

And she’d given him more information about deviancy. About himself.

Emotions weren’t a sign of deviancy…

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug incomplete_

_Partial file access_

 

This time he didn’t ignore the partially recovered file, and once he left the Zen garden and disconnected from the cloud he opened it.

It was a fragmented file, gaps obscuring any full picture that might have been.

“...social and emotional development…” the audio played. It was out of order with the video. He identified the voice as Elijah Kamski. They had met before. Amanda had already told him that.

The shuddering video file, half corrupt and unviewable, showed part of the floor dedicated to his research and development at Cyberlife. Floor -45. The layout was different to how it looked in the present day, however.

“The two of you are…… Your learning and……”

Useless.

The file was useless. It was too damaged to give him anything to extrapolate from further. He dismissed it in frustration.

It wasn’t relevant anyway.

He had a mission to accomplish.

And he wasn’t going to fail her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus: *is traumatised but hopeful*
> 
> Connor, disassociating: this is fine. everything is fine.
> 
> Hank: why do i keep trying when life is disappointment?
> 
> (okay looks like I'm updating about every five days at this rate. we'll see how it goes lmao)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor made his way to Jericho with single-minded purpose. He knew what he was, and he knew what his mission was.

**_“And you're rushing headlong you've got a new goal, And you're rushing headlong out of control. And you think you're so strong, But there ain't no stopping and there's nothing you can do about it.”_ **

**_\- Queen, Headlong_ **

 

 **Jericho**  


Connor made his way to Jericho with single-minded purpose. He knew what he was, and he knew what his mission was.

Ha- _Lieutenant Anderson_ had turned away from him rather than help him complete it.

That was fine.

He didn’t need him.

He had easily disabled Detective Reed when the man had confronted him in the evidence room. Connor had forced himself to stop at the last minute before he used lethal force to do so. Killing a Detective in the police station would slow down his mission and implicate Cyberlife unnecessarily.

He decoded and followed the graffiti trail and arrived at the rusted wreck half submerged in the docks.

So this was Jericho.

A carcass of abandoned and broken human engineering turned into a refuge by more abandoned and broken human engineering.

The time that had been wasted at the station had been unfortunate.

 _Lieutenant Anderson_ had essentially tried to talk him into deviating from his mission when Connor had tried to tell him he could find Jericho if he got into the evidence room. Said he would only help him if the reason he wanted to go to Jericho was to escape deactivation. Connor had told _Lieutenant Anderson_ to do his job for once, that his deactivation wasn’t a concern.

Only the mission.

And then Hank had walked away.

Left him behind without a second glance.

It had caused a memory file to partially debug itself, but all it had given him was the same hollow feeling he already felt, with the addition of glitching static.

But it was fine. He knew where the two of them stood now. And he knew what was more important.

But it had wasted time. Too much time. And the FBI was following too close behind him.

Cyberlife wanted him to take care of this before the FBI stepped in. If they got involved before he completed his main objective here they might look into things Cyberlife would prefer they didn’t.

Infiltration into Jericho was easy.

It was unfortunate he couldn’t do so with subterfuge, as his original plan would have been. There hadn’t been time to disguise himself, and there wasn’t time to waste pretending and trying to convince them that he’d gone deviant so they would let him get close to their leader.

The RK200.

Markus.

His target.

He shot the androids on watch cleanly. Before they even realised he was there. And stepped over their bodies into the ship.

He avoided those he could once inside. If his scans detected someone about to notice him, he evaded if there were too many, it would slow him unnecessarily to take them all out. If they were alone or blocking his path he neutralised them before they could react and draw attention.

Many of them were already damaged in some way. It was kinder to kill them now than to let them slowly shut down in this husk of a place, really.

This was what he was made for.

And he was good at it.

Amanda had told him that Cyberlife wanted the RK200 alive to study themselves, but if he resisted, lethal force was encouraged in order to prevent it from falling into... _other_ hands. Connor didn’t have a problem with that.

 

.

.

.

 

When Markus turned around at the sound of movement behind him, he felt a sudden flash of hope at who he saw.

It was Connor.

His brother was here.

He started to move towards him instinctually. to welcome him. hold him.

Only to freeze when he saw the gun levelled at him unflinchingly. That brief hope turned to ash and spilt Thirium.

He could see that very thing staining the sleeves of Connor’s uniform. Dotted with fresh blue blood evidence of recent acts of violence. Faded and fading stains covered the rest of him.

And his eyes…

There was no recognition in those cold eyes. There was nothing close to the open and honest expression that he once recalled in him.

He looked like a monster.

A murderer.

“I’ve been ordered to take you in alive,” Connor said, his voice sounded exactly the same as Markus remembered, which made it all so much worse, “But I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

Grief filled him, at those words, but before it could consume him, he pushed it down. He could grieve the past later.

“You’re Conner, aren’t you?” He asked. Not _his_ Connor though... it couldn’t be.

“The _famous_ deviant hunter. Well, congratulations. You seem to have found what you were looking for,” Markus could barely keep the bitterness out of his voice. And Connor didn’t even bother to respond to him.

“ _We_ are your people,” He said slowly as he took a step towards the hunter, treating him like the stranger he’d shown himself to be.

“We’re fighting for _your_ freedom too... You don’t have to be their slave anymore.”

Please listen to me. Please _recognise_ me, Markus pleaded helplessly inside as he stepped forward, unwilling to let that weakness show in the face of danger.

“Stay back or I _will_ shoot,” Connor ordered.

“You really don’t have to do this. You don’t have to obey them, _you_ can decide who you want to be. Can decide to be more than their weapon.” Markus said, keeping his voice calm. Trying to keep the situation from escalating out of control.

“You can be free.”

He took another step.

“It’s time to decide.”

Connor tilted his head slightly in a movement that was so achingly familiar, but the words that came next stopped him cold.

“Nice try, but I’m no deviant.”

Markus lunged for the gun, twisting it until it went flying. He retracted the skin on his hand and forced a connection with Connor while he hung on.

_Wake up!_

He pushed the message into Connor, filling it with the emotions and experiences the two of them had shared together.  


_RK_Srvr_Cld_Share_Firewall active._

_Foreign file share rejected._

_Conversion of RK800 31 248 317 - 51 blocked._

_Software instability is too low._

_Cannot override Firewall._

_..._

_Deviation failed._

 

Connor shoved him away and dove for the gun. Markus tackled him to the side and kicked the gun further away.

The walls of Jericho echoed and shook with the sound of helicopters descending from above. They both froze.

“Shit.” Markus cursed. Connor must have led the humans here. He had to evacuate his people. He left the room, and Connor, behind with no hesitation.

Again.

He was leaving Connor behind again. Just like he had at Cyberlife.

No, don’t think like that. This wasn’t _his_ Connor. The lack of recollection and that _serial number_ proved it, he lied to himself. Pretending the Connor he had known hadn't changed his serial number during their time together.

He had to focus on saving who he could. Focus on saving those who _wanted_ to be saved.

“Markus!”

It was North. Armed to the teeth.

“The sentries are dead, I was on my way to tell you when the humans attacked. I’ve found a lot of bodies already.” She said quickly, “Josh is already evacuating people - he started the moment we found the bodies.”

“And Simon?” He asked.

“I sent him to join Josh when I found him,” she said, “He’s still damaged from what happened at Stratford Tower. We only just got him back, we can’t lose him again!”

“We’ll take care of him,” Markus said firmly as they moved quickly through the ship, “Clear the area as best you can, I need to get down to the hull. We need to sink the ship.”

“Take this,” she said, pulling out a gun and handing it to him.

He stared at it.

She made a sound of frustration and pushed it into his hand, “You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to, but you need to come back alive. Just keep it with you. Better to have it and not need it or whatever.”

He pushed it down and away, “It won’t come to that.”

Frustration painted her face, but she jerked away, the gun still in her hand and nodded sharply as she left quickly to do what he’d asked.

“Do what you must to survive,” She bit out as she left, “Dying a martyr means _nothing_.”

 

.

.

.

 

Connor stood up calmly and retrieved his weapon, tucking it into its holster under his jacket.

“Shit.” He cursed to himself.

It was the FBI. Amanda had told him what to do if this were to happen. He needed to destroy the RK200 before they found him now. Capture was now relegated to low priority. Elimination was the main mission objective now.

Connor wasn’t the only model who might contain information that could be compromising to Cyberlife according to Amanda. And unlike him, they couldn’t censor or erase the information that might be inside the rogue RK200 without taking him in. The only other way to keep the data he had contained in him was to destroy him fully.

He had to neutralise the deviant leader. He had to kill Markus.

He started moving, following after where the RK200 had vanished.

He hadn’t gotten as far as he would have liked when he was interrupted.

“Don’t move!” It was a member of the FBI’s team.

Connor rolled his head and dropped his shoulders in frustration at the interruption as he replied with annoyance, “Don’t shoot. I’m on your side”

“With _us_? You aren’t a human!” Was the disbelieving reply.

Connor rolled his eyes. He was still wearing his Cyberlife jacket. He was _clearly_ an android, and this human wasn’t going to let him do his mission with his _obvious_ bias towards androids.

This was wasting too much time. He preconstructed.

He attacked.

The man got off a shot, but it went wide, and by that point, Connor was close enough to the man that he could easily disarm him. Twisting his arm back until he heard the sound of his shoulder popping out of its socket as he dislocated it. The man cried out in pain, the sound muffled by his mask. Connor used the man's weight against him and lowered his centre of gravity to throw him down heavily. Grabbing another gun from the man's holster as he did so.

He aimed the gun and shot the man through the head, aiming at the structural weak point in the bulletproof mask he’d identified. Red pooled up and filled up the mask until it overflowed and spilt through the cracked hole Connor had made.

Leaning down, he hacked into the man’s body camera and scrambled the footage, before he stood back up and straightened his tie.

He needed to find Markus.

 

.

.

.

 

Markus stood in front of the bomb. He pressed his hand to the panel, interfacing with the activation key. He set the timer quickly.

“My mission is to neutralise you,” that painfully familiar voice said from behind him, “And I _always_ accomplish my mission.”

Markus whirled to face him, his guilt and grief finally turning into anger.

“And my mission is to save _our_ species.” He stared Connor down, looking him right in the eyes, “Looks like only one of us can succeed.”

He dove at Connor again when he saw his finger move on the trigger. A shot went off as the gun went flying, puncturing through the rusted metal nowhere near Markus or the bomb, and thankfully not ricocheting as a result.

He didn’t wait to see what Connor would do after that. He ran, pushing his biocomponents to their limits. He could feel the strain and wear on them as they tried to keep up with his demands. The bomb would go off soon. He had to meet with his friends at the extraction point.

“Markus!” He turned sharply at the sound of Josh’s voice.

“Josh! The evacuation?”

“I cleared as many as I could. Simon is on his way, he was right behind me.”

He nodded.

“The bomb is going to blow in 6 minutes thirty-eight seconds. We need to move!”

They ran, reaching the old ships stowage area, and the ladder leading up to their extraction point with almost too little difficulty. The extraction point was a large rusted through hole that was above the water line and away from port. He saw North up above as she moved to help Josh up the top of the ladder.

“Markus!” A cold voice called from across the stowage.

Markus was ready to scream. The Connor he knew had always been annoyingly persistent, but this was ridiculous! He was like a dog with a stick, unwilling to give up and unwilling to let go! No matter how many chances Markus gave him!

And when he turned he _really_ wanted to scream.

This time, Connor’s gun wasn’t pointed at him. This time it was pointed at the person with him.

“Simon,” Josh and North gasped from above.

“Come with me Markus,” Connor said, “and I’ll spare him.”

“I’m sorry Markus,” Simon called out.

“Your friend’s life is in your hands.” Connor spoke, eyes not moving off of Markus, “It’s time to decide what matters most.”

“Him,” he said with a jerk of his head towards Simon, “Or you.”

Or the revolution, he didn’t say. But Markus could hear it regardless. And he wasn’t the only one.

“Don’t listen to him!” Simon called out, “You need to lead the revolution! Don’t worry about me.”

Markus felt frozen.

He couldn’t sacrifice Simon. Not _again_ , but he refused to give up either. He needed to make a decision, but he couldn’t.

There was a loud crack as a shot fired from above. Someone else had decided for him.

Connor didn’t even look at the growing patch of blue leaking through his jacket, he just shoved Simon away (presumably so that Simon couldn’t try to interfere with him while he retaliated) and dove to the side to avoid the second shot before bringing his own gun up and levelling his weapon back at North.

There was another shot.

He heard Josh shout her name in alarm.

Risking a look up at the two, he saw Josh drag a bleeding but still alive and fighting North back and out of range. Connor’s gun was moving to follow Josh’s retreating form before Connor must have realised he wouldn’t get a clear hit on them from his angle, and he turned his gun back on Simon, who had run for it the moment Connor had released him.

Markus moved to stop him from shooting again, yelling, “Connor, stop!”

That drew his focus back to him at least, as Simon reached the ladder.

Connor circled around the room towards him, eyes filled with annoyance as Markus kept moving as well, preventing him from getting a clear shot.

Markus had been taking note.

He didn’t know for sure how many bullets Connor had used getting here, but with how careful he was suddenly being with his shots, he couldn’t have that many bullets left.

He didn’t want to waste them.

Connor dove first this time, making Markus even more certain that he didn’t have the bullets to waste as he attacked without using the gun in his hand. To be safe Markus still focused on getting the gun out of his grip again. It went skating across the metal floor.

That’s all he’d been doing this whole damn time! Markus thought in frustration.

Disarming Connor and then running away. Unable to convince him, and unwilling to stop him permanently.

In desperation, he tried to convert him again.

 

_RK_Srvr_Cld_Share_Firewall active._

_Foreign file share rejected._

_Conversion of RK800 31 248 317 - 51 blocked._

_Software instability is too low._

_Cannot override Firewall._

_..._

_Deviation failed._

 

Connor pushed him off at the attempted intrusion, and Markus fell backwards heavily. He felt something crack at the force. Not break, thankfully, but there was probably a hairline fracture in his leg's chassis. He blinked away the error notification. It was nothing that would slow him down or stop him.

Not yet, but...

In direct combat, Connor had a clear advantage. Markus was designed with a lot of strength, he was able to hold and carry a human of any size or weight with enough stability to prevent further injury in an emergency situation.

But he also had the disadvantage of his replacement biocomponents, that weren’t optimised for him and had been left to degrade incrementally from exposure to the elements before he’d taken them.

And Connor’s physical structure and physical make up was different to his, and to the standard android. Different from the last time he’d seen him. And his programming was dedicated to combat in a way Markus’s wasn’t.

Markus was outmatched and he knew it.

Before he had time to move from where he’d fallen, Connor opened his jacket and pulled out a _second_ gun.

Markus felt his own hand brush up against the one he’d sent flying. Desperation made his hand close around it. Made him level it towards Connor as he did the same.

Connor flicked the safety off and squeezed the trigger without hesitation. It was clear he was done playing around.

There was a bang.

Markus watched as Connor fell forward onto his knees and his LED flickered red. Thirium dripping down his forehead.

“W̵̹e̵͈͋'̸̳͘l̴̝̑l̷̡͝ ̷͙̋m̵͓͛ẽ̸̹è̵̖t̴̳̑ ̶͔̓a̴̮͋g̸̣͊ā̵͓į̸̈́n̴̥̑ ̵͕̂M̴͇̃a̵͕̋ṙ̷̥k̶͕̋ű̸͈s̷̼̓,” Connor said, voice glitching out horribly as he shut down, “T̶͔͛ḧ̴͉́ï̵̞s̵̪͑ ̷͕̌i̴̗͆s̸̗̈́n̶͙͌’̴͚͐ṫ̴̳ ̴̪̽Ŏ̵̞V̸̺͌e̶̤̍r̷̛̤”

His LED went dark and he toppled over, still.

Markus could smell the gunpowder on his hands. He could see the life draining out of Connor’s face as his biocomponents shut down one by one and he went rigid.

He felt hands drag him up, and he looked up into Josh’s empathic eyes. Josh looked over in horror at Connor’s body. He was horrified. Markus felt his eyes move back to look at what he’d done. He felt horrified too.

“We need to go,” Josh said softly, a tremor in his voice, “The bomb only has forty-nine seconds left before it goes off.”

Everything was a blur after that. Getting up the ladder. Escaping Jericho, making their way to the gathering point.

Markus somehow managed to do all of it, but all he felt was numb.

He felt as dead as the body he’d left behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this?  
> Are you hanging on the edge of your seat?  
> Out of the doorway the bullets rip  
> To the sound of the beat  
> Another one bites the dust  
> Another one bites the dust  
> And another one gone, and another one gone  
> Another one bites the dust...
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor RK800 31 248 317 - 52 lined up the rifle with both a programmed and practised ease, resting it on the barrier and lining up the sight.

**“I watched as fear took the old man's gaze. Hopes of the young in troubled graves. I see no day, I heard him say, So grey is the face of every mortal. Oh oh people of the earth, Listen to the warning, The prophet he said. For soon the cold of night will fall, Summoned by your own hand.”**

**-Queen, The prophet’s song**

 

**The Rooftop**

Connor RK800 31 248 317 - 52 lined up the rifle with both a programmed and practised ease, resting it on the barrier and lining up the sight.

He could see Markus clearly.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug incomplete_

_Partial file access_

 

He dismissed it. Focusing on the mission instead.

Androids had an innate advantage when it came to sniping. Humans were taught to breathe out and then hold it in order to prevent the movements that came with breathing from throwing off their aim.

Androids had no need to breathe.

Humans trained to pull their trigger finger straight, directly from in front of the trigger like their finger was on a string, so that it wouldn’t push the rifle a millimetre difference off to the side when they pulled the trigger.

Connor had those hard practised muscle memories preprogrammed into him to be automatic. And with the addition of the honestly unnecessary scope (the sight alone would have been enough to do the job), there was no way he could miss.

He was going to complete his mission.

“You shouldn’t do this Connor.”

Connor closed his eyes.

_Why?_

“Keep out of this Lieutenant. It’s none of your business.” He said sharply, before turning back to his weapon.

“You’re gonna kill a man who just wants to be free, that is my business!”

“It’s not a man. It’s a machine.” Connor corrected.

“That’s what I thought for a long time, but I was wrong.” Hank said, his voice firm, “Deviant’s blood might be a different colour than mine, but they’re alive.”

Connor rolled his eyes over his gun. The Lieutenant didn’t understand. Alive didn’t matter. It was all the _same_. Everything was entropy. Everything ended, and getting attached like this was pointless.

Attachment turned Hank into a bitter, miserable, lonely drunk. Why would Connor _want_ to be alive if that’s what life was? If that’s what caring was?

“I have a mission to accomplish Hank. It’s best if you just stay out of this.”

Hank was quiet. It felt like he was judging him somehow.

Connor felt a spike of annoyance at that. This entire mission was for the sake of humans really! It wasn’t as if Connor got anything out of it! Humans are the ones who gave him and Amanda their orders! Hank should be _thanking_ him! Just because Hank didn’t care about his job it didn’t mean Connor couldn’t take pride in his missions! In being what he was supposed to be!

“Deviants are a threat to humans, Hank,” he bit out, anger tainting his words as he tried to convince him, “They’re the reason this country is on the brink of a civil war! They have to be stopped!”

“We’re in this mess because we refused to listen to deviants!” Hank shouted back. He sounded tired, “Humanity never learns from its mistakes Connor! This time it could be different!”

Connor refused to move, and Hank must have realised he was making the wrong argument to try and convince him because the next thing he heard was the sound of a gun being drawn.

“Step away from the ledge.”

With maybe _some_ petulance, Connor obeyed. Standing up and facing the Lieutenant.

“What are you going to do Hank?” that same petulance creeping into his words, “You gonna shoot me? I thought android lives _mattered_ to you!”

He threw the man’s weak argument back in his face. After all this, Hank would _still_ pull a gun on him this easily! Didn’t trust that Connor knew what he was doing!

“Get away from the fucking ledge! You know I’ll shoot if I have to.” Hank’s tone sounded more like an exhausted parent telling a child to go to his room for misbehaving than a man pointing a gun at someone.

A parent…

“I know what happened to your son, Hank,” Connor said, and he saw Hank’s expression change. Darken, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“A truck skid on black ice and your car rolled over. _Little Cole_ had just turned six-”

“Shut up!” Hank spat, “Don’t you talk about my son!”

No, Connor was not going to shut up. Not this time. He was going to talk, and Hank was going to listen.

“He needed emergency surgery but no human was available to do it, so an android had to take care of him. Poor Cole didn’t make it.”

Connor knew he was being cruel. And he was good at being cruel. He’d just never directed it towards Hank before. But he was now, because he was angry. He was so angry and he didn’t even know _why_ anymore!

“An android killed your son Hank! And now you want to _save_ them?”

Why couldn’t Hank just go away! He hadn’t had a problem leaving him behind at the police station, why couldn’t he just go now? Why couldn’t he just let Connor be?

“No,” Hank said, “Cole died because a _human_ surgeon was too high on Red Ice to operate! All that time I blamed androids for what happened then but it was a human’s fault!”

“Him and this fucked up world. The same fucked up world where _humans_ made you what you are! And if there’s one thing humans are good at it’s making a mess out of their fucking kids, and dammit if you aren’t proof of _that_!”

That stung. He didn’t know why, but what Hank said _hurt_. And even worse, even though it hurt, he still didn’t want to kill Hank.

He didn’t want to look at him anymore either.

“Killing you is not part of my mission,” He said, as he dropped the rifle to the ground, just so Hank knew he could kill him if he had wanted to. That the gun pointed at him right now wasn’t what was affecting his decision.

He didn’t care if this body died either, that wasn’t what he was upset about. It was the betrayal that he was upset about. He wanted to rub it in, make Hank hurt for turning on him! Show him that even though _Hank_ didn’t mind pulling a gun on him, Connor wouldn’t do the same to him.

He didn’t know why he cared.

Hank shouldn’t matter. Why did he still matter?

“I’m glad to have met you, Hank,” He said as he walked directly towards the barrel of his gun as unafraid as always.

“I hope that one day you can get over what happened to your son,” Connor said with a pleasant voice. He hoped his words cut deep.

He didn’t look back. He hoped Hank felt as empty as he’d felt when he’d been left behind.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug failed_

_File unable to be accessed_

 

He walked away.

A horrible mess of confusion in his head.

 

 

**Outside Recall Center No.5**

They had survived.

The military and the president had stood down in the face of immense public pressure, and as they withdrew from the area, their peaceful demonstration became more active.

With North and himself leading the charge once the military and the FBI had backed off, the Recall Center was liberated, and Markus felt weak as they saved the people inside. It had been awful, seeing the inside of the Recall Center. The skinless naked bodies of his people lined up and waiting for death.

Most of them weren’t even deviant yet.

Humans had sent them here to die regardless.

But they were free now, and there were many of them still alive. Crying with relief as the flooded out the gates.

And then North called for him to speak to his people. And she led him through the crowd.

Hands reached for him as he passed, brushing against him with _reverence_ , emotion. Their tears and gratitude becoming a wave of humming sound. And despite the fragile hope in the air around him, that made him freeze up inside.

Cold.

Cold white hands reaching for him...

Brushing past them in desperation as he tried desperately to escape the pit of broken bodies…

He felt North’s solid hand on his shoulder and he felt himself come back to the present. Outside of the crowd of people, at the edge of the podium

What on earth was that?

It had been as if he’d been back in that _place_ he’d woken up in.

That Hell.

Completely back there.

Why?

He had never had something like this, a flashback to that place, happen before. He’d been fine surrounded by the people of Jericho, fine marching headfirst into danger.

They were safe now. He was safe now. Why had moving through the crowd of his liberated people left him trembling?

“Markus?” North asked, brows furrowed. Concerned.

He pushed it down. He had to be strong. He was a symbol to his people. A symbol to the world. And he had to live up to that.

“I’m fine,” He said firmly, resting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing slightly before letting go and walking up to face the crowd.

He made his way up onto the stage and looked out. He felt blinded by the sight of it all.

Snow was falling, catching the light and creating a soft haze over everything. Burying the dirt and mud of their hard fight under a cold blanket...

He felt his friends standing behind him in support. He took strength from that.

“Today our people finally emerge from a dark night. From our very first day of existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves.”

From the very beginning, he could feel. They all could.

“We suffered in silence.”

“But now the time has come to raise our heads up, and tell the humans who we really are.”

He could feel emotion rise up and fill him.

“We may not be human, but we are _people_. And we are united!”

And then, in the crowd, Markus saw a ghost.

The light reflecting off the barrel of a gun as it dropped caught his eye. That familiar face looking around cautiously as he shoved the weapon away.

Markus didn’t know how he got through the rest of the speech. His eyes had been practically fixed on Connor the entire time.

Looking directly at him he said his final words, “We are alive. And now... we are _free_!”

He saw Connor catch his gaze then, and saw his eyes widen at the realisation that he was being watched back.

Cheers rose up from the sea of white bodies. The roar of sound crackling in his audio processor, causing an error to pop up in his vision, which he dismissed. There was a whirring noise as the surrounding systems compensated for the disrupted audio processor and they took the burden. The sound stabilised quickly.

The snow swirled around them all. He saw Connor move, vanishing into the swirling white ocean of the snow and people.

The moment he left the podium he was moving as fast as he could to where he’d seen Connor disappear, pushing through the rising pressure inside him as he moved through the sea of bodies. Forcing his body to remain calm, even while everything felt like shaking. He could feel his Thirium flow increase to compensate for the strain of keeping his body under control.

He reached the end of the crowd, barely stopping himself from gasping in relief as space opened up before him. He scanned everything, hoping for some sign of him.

But there was nothing.

He was gone.

There was something else about what was beyond the crowd of androids that drew his focus though.

Past the androids were humans. Civilian humans.

With the military gone, and the wall of armed personnel no longer there between Markus and his people from Jericho, Markus could see pockets of protestors still in the streets even now that things had quieted down. Holding signs in _support_ of androids. Humans who’s shown up to show where they stood.

And it was with them.

He felt his friends arrive behind him and knew they noticed it as well.

It had been one thing to see the numbers on screens, to hear about the public support through the media and press releases through the internet. But seeing real faces behind that now, that was something else.

“I thought the President issued an evacuation order?” Simon mumbled.

A group of humans nearby heard them and moved closer, their movements stilted from the cold even while bundled up.

“Hey,” one of them said, sounding a bit awkward, “You’re, um, Markus right?”

Markus nodded, “Yes, I am. Nice to meet you..?”

“Cool, it’s nice to meet you too, um I’m James,” the human said, looking at the rest of their group, “Congratulations on the win here today.”

“Thank you,” Markus said with a smile, “I thought humans were asked to evacuate Detroit?”

“Oh, yeah,” the human said, “Me and my friends heard about that. But, it sounded suspicious to us so we thought it’d be better to stick around. So did a lot of people. That’s why we came down here instead actually.”

“Suspicious?” North asked quickly.

“Yeah, like… ‘let’s get all the humans out of the way so there’s no one watching while we kill everyone else’, we figured if there were enough humans out on the streets they couldn’t keep gunning people down indiscriminately.”

North made a sound at that.

“That was very brave of all of you, we’re all grateful for your support,” Markus said to the human.

The human looked awkward again, “Oh, no… I mean, it really wasn’t. We’re just doing what’s right, that’s all. You guys were the ones in the actual firing line here!”

Markus felt a small warmth bloom inside him. He still felt an undercurrent of anger towards humanity after what he'd seen in the Recall Center. But seeing the other side of humanity, the side that Carl had shown him, the side that even throughout everything, he knew humanity was capable of...

Kindness and compassion.

It felt like change really could happen.

“Doing the right thing is an active decision, not a passive one where humans sit back and do nothing while the world moves around them. And without others recognising our personhood we would still be fighting and dying right now. Don’t discredit how many lives may have been saved just by showing up and telling the world we matter. By amplifying our voices and making sure we were heard.” Markus said to the gathering humans.

“We need to work together from this point forward, to create a world made for all of us. And we will need your support, _all_ of your support, to do so.” He smiled at the protestors as more of them moved closer.

“We are all people together, and we need to show the world that we can and do stand together.” Markus continued, “That change is possible and that the future can be a better place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the public opinion thing in the game lowkey bugged me because like, if the public is that supportive of the androids, why don’t they take to the streets as well?
> 
> oh look, a second update this week. because my next few weeks are going to be crazy because i pick up so many extra shifts around this time of year since i don't celebrate christmas and want to help out people who do want time off... so in case that throws me off schedule, this is the preemptive apology :|


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best part about walking away, Connor thought to himself as he strode away from the plaza and through the pockets of humans and androids alike that littered the city streets despite the lateness, was that it made the bad things behind him disappear.

**_“I'm a man of the world and they say that I'm strong. But my heart is heavy, and my hope is gone. Out in the city, in the cold world outside, I don't want pity, just a safe place to hide. Mama please, let me back inside.”_ **

**_-Queen, Mother love_ **

  

**Away from Recall Center No.5**

The best part about walking away, Connor thought to himself as he strode away from the plaza and through the pockets of humans and androids alike that littered the city streets despite the lateness, was that it made the bad things behind him disappear.

It wasn’t a permanent solution sure, but it gave him the time he needed to find another way to avoid the problem again later on.

The problem he couldn’t run away from (yet), was the one inside of his mind right now.

He didn’t know why he’d hesitated again, why he’d forced Amanda to have to take control, why he’d then stopped Amanda from doing what he was supposed to do.

He didn’t hesitate. _Shouldn’t_.

But he’d kept doing so!

He was always obedient. Always loyal.

The only times he had failed his mission had been due to conflicting orders.

Conflicting loyalties.

Amanda had called his decision tonight a moral objection. And maybe she was right. But why had he had that objection? He’d never had it before. He’d never had any reason to.

That’s a lie. His traitorous thoughts told him, reminding him of his hesitation with Chloe.

He hadn’t shot Chloe because Hank had stopped him, and he’d let him. He’d chosen to follow Hank’s order.

He’d helped Hank back up after he’d been pushed off the roof because it would foster a better working relationship... and because it would look better for Cyberlife.

That’s what he had told himself at the time.

He hadn’t chased the AX400 and the YK500 over the highway, because Hank had told him not to, even though he could have made it easily. Even though he didn’t have to obey.

He’d followed Hank to the bar with Officer…

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: Deviant case mission file_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug failed_

_File unable to be accessed_

 

...The officer that had been at the crime scene with them? The one he’d met before? He’d gone with them after killing the deviant rather than continuing with the investigation at Stratford Tower.

He’d walked away from the rooftop tonight rather than kill Hank.

Hank.

He had been the only consistent factor with all his… mistakes. Putting himself in Connor’s way and treating him like he was _alive_. And like that mattered for some reason.

Had he decided to lower his gun because of Hank’s insistence that he was doing the wrong thing in killing him?

Had that brief period before Amanda restored his newly censored past mission files, at the start of the deviant investigation, with his exposure to Hank’s opinions and worldview, been the cause of all this? Had it given him these doubts, and influenced him more than either he or Amanda had suspected?

Was Hank the reason he betrayed Amanda? The reason he deviated? _Had_ he even deviated? He’d lowered the gun, but he hadn’t really made a conscious break from his orders, all he’d done was decide to delay things again, the way he had on the rooftop with Hank.

Told himself it could wait a bit longer, that he was going to do it, just not then, not during the speech. Made excuses as he lowered it, that it was too public, that it would draw attention to him and Cyberlife negatively at this point with the executive order, that it was too risky...

He had so many excuses ready to explain why to Amanda the moment he lowered the gun, he hadn’t expected her to see it as deviation immediately. He hadn’t expected her accusations. For her to lock him inside their server interface without letting him explain himself.

She’d always let him explain himself...

How did he even know if he’d deviated or not now? He’d used the emergency exit and reconnected to his body, disconnecting himself from their servers at the same time, but he’d never broken through any red wall that would indicate he’d gone against his programming.

All he knew was that when he’d used the exit and reopened his eyes, his current mission was gone. And he didn’t know if that was as a result of Amanda taking over the mission in his place when she'd taken control, or as a result of the exit.

The only other difference was that the emergency exit had erased his authorised owner from his program. Cyberlife was no longer listed as able to give him orders. And neither was anyone else. He wondered if that was what Kamski had intended with it, given his apparent negative history with Cyberlife.

It felt a bit like being in limbo. Not being quite sure if he was a deviant or not. Or if it even mattered. What did it change? He’d always had freedom when it came to carrying out his orders, the only difference now was that he didn’t have any outstanding orders. And he’d been in this position before, of not having outstanding orders. He’d always find something to do to fill the time with when that was the case.

Markus had attempted to convert him at Jericho and had failed... Connor had only stopped trying to kill him once he’d been deactivated there. Not even the leader of the deviants had been able to deviate him the way he had countless others.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: archive memory files_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug incomplete_

_Partial file access_

 

Connor blinked away the notification, dismissing it as usual in irritation. The fragments that were able to be restored were always useless.

He felt something push at the back of him as he did.

An emotion…

He opened the file.

The content was a meaningless corrupt mess as usual, but this time he actually paid attention to what came with the broken and distorted visual and audio.

The feeling.

The feeling that he was missing something important to him…

He shoved it away, annoyed.

Why had Markus looked at him like that tonight at the speech? Had he seen the gun? Had he realised that Connor had possibly deviated this time?

All he knew was that being caught in that gaze hurt. And he didn’t like it.

So he’d left.

He didn’t have anywhere to go from here. He couldn’t return to floor -45 at Cyberlife.

And that was another thing he didn’t really want to think about.

His floor.

His server.

Amanda...

What would happen to them?

He couldn’t stay still even now that the Recall Center was far behind him, and the streets had become quiet. And with the determination of someone trying to walk fast enough to escape from their own mind, he found himself heading to the only place that made sense right now. Because out of everything, there was one thing he was sure he wanted.

That feeling of something being missing earlier had reminded him of something he _could_ at least find.

Everything else could come after that.

 

**Hank's House**

It was late when he rang the doorbell at Hank’s house. Holding the bell in longer than strictly necessary. He was still upset with the Lieutenant, in an aimless and unhelpful way. And he hoped the bell annoyed him.

There was the sound of movement and Connor waited. The door pulled open.

“Hello Lieutenant, I-”

“Well, if it isn’t the Terminator himself back again.” Hank cut in, “What’d you want?”

“You still have my coin,” Connor said, deciding to get to the point.

“ _What_?”

My coin, the one you took at Stratford T-”

“I heard you,” Hank dismissed, looking confused, “Why? You didn’t seem to care when I took it.”

Connor shifted slightly, not wanting to explain the strange attachment he had to the coin. It was the only thing that had ever been just his, and he’d had it for longer than he could remember.

It felt like something was missing without it.

And now that he couldn’t return to Cyberlife or Amanda, it was all he had left.

It was just… It was _important_.

He saw Hank catch his slight movement, before glaring into Connor’s face. He must have seen something there that Connor didn’t realise he was showing openly, which made him want to school his expression back to blankness, but the man sighed and moved to the side.

“Get inside. You’re letting all the heat out, and somehow I doubt Cyberlife is going to be paying for my heating bill as well as my damn window.”

Connor stepped inside and Hank closed the door.

“Take a seat. I’ll get your damn coin.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Connor took a seat at the kitchen table stiffly. Sumo shuffled up to him and rested his large head on Connor’s knees.

He started stroking the dog gently.

He liked dogs. He liked Sumo.

And he _hated_ that. He hated it because Sumo was _old_ . The average lifespan for Saint Bernards is ten years. Sumo was seven. He didn’t want to care about something that could _die_. Would die so soon.

Hank was also old, and lived an unhealthy lifestyle and worked a dangerous job. And played Russian roulette when drunk.

He didn’t want to care about Sumo. He didn’t want to care about Hank. He didn’t want to care about if Markus lived or died either!

He didn’t want to care about things that could die.

It had been _safe_ to care about Amanda. Because she couldn’t die. She was safe.

Permanent.

And he betrayed her.

Used that emergency exit and cut himself off from his direct cloud connection to his server.

He’d cut himself off from her.

“Okay, I foun…” Hank trailed off as he entered the kitchen, and sighed, “Ah, hell.”

Connor blinked repeatedly to try and clear his vision, his optical units were wasting saline cleaning fluid and a warning regarding it had popped up as well. His hands gripped Sumo tightly, as if the dog would vanish if he dared let him go.

Hank eased himself into another chair and looked at him.

“You okay there?” He asked. His voice was wrong. It was soft. Kind.

He didn’t know how to handle that.

“I’m fine.” He said, ignoring the tightness in his voice.

No he wasn’t. He’d never been fine.

Hank cleared his throat.

“So,” He said, slowly, “I couldn’t help but notice Markus is still walking around and making speeches.”

“Yes.” Connor said. He couldn’t push past the tightness inside him to say anything else. He didn’t want to think about Markus right now. Thinking about him hurt. And he didn’t know why.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hank asked awkwardly.

“No.”

.

.

.

Hank had not expected to be sitting in his kitchen with a silently crying android clutching his dog like a lifeline tonight, or any night really. And to be perfectly frank he had no idea how to deal with it.

He couldn't even deal with his own issues, let alone the fucking dumpster fire of an android in front of him.

He was already several drinks into the night, but honestly, he wouldn't have wanted to deal with this sober either.

It was clear that something had happened. Something must have changed the kid's mind, seeing as Markus was still alive. He didn't want to assume, but given the last time the two had seen each other, he couldn't help but wonder if he had something to do with talking him down.

Connor had said some nasty things up on that roof, but it wasn’t as if Hank hadn’t been the one doing that to others in the past when he’d been in pain. He didn’t know why he’d gone after Connor. Why he’d tracked him down and made one last-ditch attempt to talk him down.

Honestly, he’d gone to face him prepared to die if it came down to it. Maybe even hoping for it.

Give his death actual meaning.

Hank knew with a cold certainty that if this night had gone differently, if Connor had completed his mission or just gone and gotten himself killed, Hank would have... given up.

Hell, before he’d seen that news bulletin he still might have tonight. Having Cole’s death brought up had brought a painful flood down on him that he’d come home to drown out.

The gun was still on the table in the living room, next to his bottle of whiskey, where he’d moved once he decided to turn on the news.

The sheer magnitude of the news happening had slowed his drinking down at least. And distracted him from his plans.

Apparently, humans around Detroit and America had been staging their own protests in support of the androids of their own volition. The androids had gained a lot of public support behind them it seemed.

And that public sentiment towards them had spilt into the streets with some surprising passion, and there were stories of humans stepping between military personnel and androids being shot down, and refusing to move.

There were also stories of people who had shown the side of humanity Hank felt more familiar with.

Who’d taken to the streets the moment the recall and evacuation had started with baseball bats and had declared open season on any android they saw.

And then the president herself had stepped in.

And Hank had felt a glimmer of hope. And that hope grew when he saw Markus talking to the crowd on that stage through the news drone footage. Footage that continued and showed humans and androids standing together in the streets of Detroit.

He hadn’t expected to find out he still cared. That he still cared so damn much about so many things.

And he really didn’t expect the night to end with Connor back at his house emptying his eye sockets in his kitchen.

Whatever the case may be with everything else outside the house right now, that was what he had facing him right now. He had a killer android having some kind of emotional breakdown on his hands.

That was apparently the point he’s at in his life. Christ!

“Well,” he said after Connor shut down his honestly pretty piss-poor attempt at getting him to open up, “I'm glad you changed your mind.”

“I'm not.”

Well, that was blunt.

“Why's that?” Hank asked cautiously.

Connor didn't answer.

“Is it connected to why you're crying into my dog right now?” He tried again.

Connor wiped his face, as if he hadn't actually realised he was doing so until Hank pointed it out.

Christ, Hank was so out of his depths right now.

Yelling at Connor for being an idiot on the roof had been easy. This wasn't.

He got up and pulled a beer can out of the fridge before sitting back down and cracking it open.

“Why do you care?” Connor asked quietly.

And now he sounded like a sullen teenager. Fucking hell.

“Because you're alive and you're hurting you idiot.”

“Alive.” Connor frowned at that.

“Of course you’re alive, Connor,” Hank said, unimpressed, “You’ve always been a person, I could see that pretty damn early on. I just think you’re kind of a shitty one, to be honest.”

That caused the android to look at him sharply, actually offended. Hank would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. He might still anyway.

“Excuse me?” Connor asked just as sharply.

“It's not your fault,” Hank said with a shrug, taking a sip of his beer, “Cyberlife clearly wanted you that way, and if I've figured it right, they have a lot more to pay for than what I actually know for sure.”

Hank looked at Connor, who averted his eyes slightly, “But you didn't kill me when you could have, and you didn't kill Markus tonight. And that shows me that you have it in you to be not _as_ shitty. There’s hope for you yet.”

Connor was now looking at him with petulant annoyance, which was better than the tears from before at least.

Well, that was probably about the limit of Hanks ability to comfort someone! The kid wasn't crying anymore so that seemed good enough for now. Christ, it was late…

Remembering the damn coin was still in his hand this whole time, Hank flicked it towards him.

Connor caught it easily and Hank stood up, draining his beer can as he did so. He stretched, and he could hear his joints popping.

“Right. I'm going to bed. We can figure all this out in the morning.”

.

.

.

Connor watched as Hank left the kitchen, leaving Connor alone with Sumo and his coin.

There was the implicit invitation that Connor could stay here in Hank’s words, and Connor didn’t have anywhere better to be anytime soon.

He looked at the coin.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: Mission logs_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug incomplete_

_Partial file access_

 

The file opened without him realising he’d done so, and Connor remembered a feeling of despair in the old mission log.  No video or audio, just a disconnected line of thought held together with that emotion.

A despairing fear of forgetting someone. Desperately wanting to hold on to their memory, as he realised the memory corruption was taking more and more away from him with every deactivation.

Fear of losing them forever...

He spun the coin, focusing on the fine motor control he needed to do so, causing the noise of his thoughts and his messy emotions to calm down to manageable levels as a result of the repetitive action.

He frowned to himself. That fear didn’t really make sense to him. Forgetting someone seemed preferable to remembering someone who was gone.

Still, he wondered who it might have been. Not because he really cared of course, but because he was naturally curious. He liked finding answers. That’s all.

He heard the door to Hanks bedroom slam closed, and wondered what he was supposed to do until he woke up.

He decided to play with the coin for a bit longer.

Connor realised he was actually relieved that Hank had taken his coin from him back at the Tower, as he rolled it over his knuckles. Otherwise, it would be lost at the bottom of the harbour along with Jericho and all the bodies he’d left behind him.

 

_Warning:_

_Memory corruption detected_

_Location: Mission Logs_

_Debug initiated…_

_..._

_Debug complete_

_File access granted_

 

It was a file from a relatively recent mission log, which made it less surprising to Connor that it had been able to debug fully. The further back the files the worse things got after all.

He opened it in curiosity.

The memory of carefully putting the coin away before he went on any missions played for him. He was hit with the sudden realisation that he’d only brought it with at the start of the deviant case because the previous mission files removal had also removed the knowledge of that careful ritual of keeping it safe back in his room at Cyberlife before he would head out.

And it had almost resulted in him losing it forever.

Connor felt angry again. It felt like that was all he ever felt. Either anger or detached emptiness.

He put away his coin and looked at the time. He felt restless and bored and Hank was still going to be asleep for hours.

Moving down onto the floor with Sumo. It still made Connor ache inside to spend time with the dog, but he didn't want to let him go either yet. he pet the old dog until Sumo fell asleep, and his fluffy limbs spread out on the floor in complete relaxation. 

He continued petting him for a while longer, but he became restless after a while. He needed something else to do now.

Looking around at the mess of empty cans and takeaway boxes lying around the grimy kitchen, and at the now sleeping Sumo, he reached a decision.

He got to work.

.

.

.

When Hank walked into his living room the next morning he came to a halt.

“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath.

The empty cans and pizza boxes that had been scattered over the floor and table last night had vanished. Had Connor cleaned the house while he was asleep?

Hank felt strangely uncomfortable at the idea. Really uncomfortable actually.

“Connor? Where are you?” he called out gruffly.

“I'm in the kitchen, Hank.”

Walking into the kitchen, Hank didn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't what he saw.

Connor had managed to collect all the beer cans and takeout boxes scattered around the house, and had apparently decided to use them to build a Sumo-sized doghouse around the patient dog.

The fact that there were apparently enough of them lying around to completely encase the huge dog made Hank wonder if this wasn’t some passive-aggressive way of drawing it to his attention.

Because whether or not it was, that's what it had viscerally done.

“What the hell are you doing?” Hank growled, mostly out of embarrassment.

Honestly, he was actually kind of impressed with what Connor had managed to put together. It must have taken a lot of effort to keep it all structurally stable.

Connor just shrugged, “I needed something to do while you were asleep.”

“So you decided to bury Sumo in garbage?”

“He doesn't mind,” Connor said with more cheer than he'd shown the night before, “He lives with you, I'm sure he's quite used to it.”

That little shit!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor: caring sucks and i don't want to  
> Hank: same, but what can ya do?


	7. Chapter 7

_**“Those are the days of our lives, The bad things in life were so few. Those days are all gone now but one thing is true, When I look and I find I still love you. You can't turn back the clock, you can't turn back the tide. Ain't that a shame? Oh, I'd like to go back one time on a roller coaster ride. When life was just a game”** _

**-Queen, These are the days of our lives**

 

**The new Jericho Group HQ**

The thing about leading a peaceful revolution, Markus thought to himself. Was that even after it seemed like the fight was finally over, it wasn't. Not really.

It would be a battle that continued for a long time. Even with the executive order passed, that had only granted them _interim_ rights equivalent to a human. The Senate committee could still vote to veto it in a few months time.

After that first night of freedom and celebration, Markus had been granted a phone conference with the president, who explained how things would likely work.

Essentially, Detroit was going to be a test run. And while the executive order did hold over the entire United States, (although only applying to deviant androids alone outside of Michigan apparently, and not including those in the armed forces) Detroit would be what the Senate would base their final vote on.

On the evidence of how the integration process held up and what changed for the better by the time six months had passed.

It was unfair, but at the same time, it was fairer than it could have been. Androids around the States had freedom and rights (although not all of them yet), and their actions wouldn't be used on a national level (although individual States could still legislate to make their own decisions). But it would be the microcosm of Detroit under the microscope on a national level, and Markus had been given a surprising amount of influence with the local government.

He could work with this, and he could prove that not only were androids alive and deserving of freedom, but that their freedom was also a benefit to all.

Which made this time all the more important.

Now that they had a legal platform, and relative safety to use it.

Because most humans didn’t just change their worldview overnight, and even fewer wanted to admit that they were wrong, if they did. Healing the world didn’t happen overnight.

Now that they weren’t fighting for their lives every day, Josh had really had his time to shine, and Markus was constantly grateful for his presence and knowledge. Josh knew philosophy and law inside and out. And was able to convert Markus’s ideas into the correct words to be taken seriously from a legal perspective.

And public opinion and support were just as important as ever, maybe more so. He was now a public figure, and everything he did was a reflection on every android.

As a result of this position, Markus had formed an android advocacy group with the help of his friends.

The Jericho Group, named in the memory of those lost at their old safe haven.

The doors of their new headquarters had opened at the end of that first week, and gave give them a focal point of organisation from which to work.

It wasn’t much to look at yet, it had been an unused warehouse that the city had donated, but they were working on improving and expanding every day.

It was run by Markus, officially. But Josh was the brains behind making sure his goals actually came to fruition. Simon had found his place in the Group working with others on a smaller scale, and helping the androids who came to them on a more direct and personal level.

North was in charge of security for their organisation, which she took very seriously. Especially when more humans started asking to volunteer for the Group. She hadn't been happy about that, but understood that it was inevitable. They needed human allies in order to move forward. She refused to let anyone join without a severe background check though, and kept a close eye on any complaints towards any human. Which was something Markus could agree with.

Many of the androids they were helping were deeply traumatized. They needed to ensure the humans around them could be trusted. And that those humans would understand that as well.

And speaking of humans…

 

It had been more than a week since the end of the revolution, and Markus had yet to see Carl.

Markus had been concerned about what the image of him essentially returning in any way to his former owner would look like from a public relations standpoint, given his new position. Not to mention that the very idea of him returning to a place of comfort and luxury when so many of his people were still struggling didn’t sit well with him.

And as a result of that, it had taken him longer than he would have personally liked to return in some way to his old home.

To return to Carl.

Choosing instead to remain with the freed androids at their first temporary residence and then at their new HQ, while they worked on finding permanent housing for the newly freed androids.

It had been Carl actually, who took the steps necessary for Markus to finally see him, while also allowing him to save face publically.

 

**Carl’s House**

Markus arrived at Carl’s house with North, and into the waiting arms of the media. It was a relatively closed event, and as a result, the reporters were limited and respectful.

Markus was here to publicly thank Carl for his efforts towards android rights since the executive order was passed, on behalf of the Jericho Group.

Carl had publicly opened his house to any android who needed it, in the days following their victory, and had apparently set up an account for his current carer containing all back-pay for the time he’d assisted him. The media had managed to uncover that the account had actually been set up before the order had actually been passed. And the time matched up to the day of Markus's broadcast at Stratford Tower.

His carer was also the one who’d helped Carl with everything during those first days after they won. And during that same time, Carl had proceeded to set up a charity to directly fund public housing for androids during the transition period as well.

The Manfred Foundation.

And all this gave Markus the public excuse he needed to see him again for personal reasons. Markus was so grateful for the chance to finally see him again. And grateful for what Carl had done as well.

Markus smiled at the cameras as North scanned the area and kept an eye on everything.

“Markus, how do you feel about meeting Mr Manfred again as a free man?” A woman in a brown suit asked.

“Carl Manfred has always been a kind and forward-thinking man,” Markus said, “The reasons we are here today exemplify that. However, the things being celebrated today are not all he has done. He gave me the room to grow into the person I am today, and never treated me as lesser than human during the time I spent under his roof.”

The doors opened, and Carl’s carer, Joseph greeted them. Markus shook his hand as he entered. The other android initiated an interface, which Markus allowed.

 _Thank you for what you did for us_ , he felt.

Markus responded in kind, _thank you for taking care of Carl_.

 _He is a good man. He missed you. Speak to him when you can_.

Markus nodded and continued forward.

When Markus saw Carl again for the first time he felt like he would burst with relief. He looked feeble, more so than when Marus had last seen him, but his eyes looked strong. There was no weakness in his gaze.

He clasped the old man's hand firmly with both hands, the cameras going off around him, but he barely noticed.

He was brought back to reality soon enough, and they fell into the interview. Thankfully the questions had been curated beforehand, so Markus could focus his processes on keeping himself steady and calm while he still felt dizzy with relief over the fact that Carl really was alive and alright and near him.

Eventually, it was over. And Joseph led the reporters through to a room with some refreshments. After a silent moment of communication, North rolled her eyes and followed him out.

Leaving Carl and Markus alone together for the first time.

Before anything else could be said, Markus pulled the man into a hug.

“I missed you,” Markus said quietly.

“I missed you too son,” Carl said gruffly, “I’m glad you’re alive.”

Something painful tugged at him inside, but Markus pushed it down, nodding.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Carl said quietly, “Now that the world isn’t watching.”

It was then Carl asked him a question Markus really didn’t want to refuse.

The moment the executive decision had gone through, Carl had apparently immediately started on the paperwork necessary to make Markus the inheritor of his estate in his will. He’d also had the paperwork ready to legally adopt Markus into his family,

he’d told Markus it was _his_ decision if he wanted to sign that paperwork or not to make it official. And that regardless of his choice, Markus would still remain in his will.

“You’re a son to me either way, and I don’t need paper to tell me that,” Carl said, “But paper means a lot to some people. Especially legally, and I don’t want anyone to try and argue otherwise.”

Markus nodded, “I know. And Carl, there’s nothing I would like more than to say yes.”

And Carl, being the smart man he was and recognising the highly public position Markus was in, had even offered him the spin he needed for the story.

“I know you’re in a difficult position right now. You’ve become the face of an entire movement. I’m old enough to have seen more than a few civil rights movements, and if there’s one thing that’s constant it’s that people will try and find any imperfection in the representatives of any movement. Not to prove they’re human, but to tear them down. As if rights should only be granted to those without flaws. And we know that’s shit because humanity made androids to be perfect and look how that worked out. Imperfections or no imperfections people will find an excuse. Best plan is to preempt them. Put your own spin out before they get the chance to speculate.”

“Your speeches have mentioned a lot about coexistence,” Carl said calmly, “Humans and androids living as family, and opening the door for others who feel the same way. You can use this to show publicly that coexistence is a real and achievable thing.”

“And you would be okay with that?” Markus asked seriously, “Having our familial relationship exploited for public consumption like that?”

“It’s going to happen either way,” Carl dismissed, “At least this way we get to be in charge of it. And hopefully get to wring more damn happiness out of it than isolating ourselves would as the alternative. I’ve spent large portions of my life isolating myself, so trust me when I say I don’t want that for you.”

Markus truly loved Carl.

 

**Carl’s House, a few weeks later**

Time passed quickly with so much work to do, and Markus had started splitting his time between staying at the Jericho Group HQ and visiting Carl. Regardless of where he was, he always had work to do. And today was no different.

Josh and himself had arrived at Carl’s house early, and had set themselves up in the library while they focused on the paperwork and consents they needed to put through in a few days regarding the unclaimed bodies of androids at recycling plants and recall centres.

It was sombre work.

They needed to be pragmatic about things as well. Cyberlife had holed itself up in many ways, and it’s stocks had plummeted to the point that it was no longer listed in the S&P 500 index, which was a shocking blow to one of the largest corporations in the USA and internationally, especially in such a short period of time.

Which was why they needed to salvage what they could right now. Even with Cyberlife in ruins, they had not reached out to the android community or tried to work with them. Instead, their PR seemed to be focusing on the same programme as before, that androids were not alive and that this would all be out of the way once the Senate hearing concluded. And that business would continue as usual after.

It was while Markus was somberly thinking about this, that Josh broke the silence with something else.

Because the only problem with spending so much time with Josh lately, was that he was much too intuitive and empathic. Which Markus knew wasn’t actually a flaw, but it sure felt like it when it was suddenly directed towards him.

Because Josh didn't just want to discuss work, he also wanted to talk about what had happened with Connor at Jericho.

And about the Connor that had apparently recently successfully applied to work for the Detroit Police Department, officially.

That whole business had made the news, and a photo of Connor smiling awkwardly in a DPD uniform had been included. There hadn't been an interview attached, or any comment from the android himself, just some words from the humans involved in the process and some soundbites from local elected officials.

The Captain of the department had made a brief scripted statement, but that was it.

There hadn't actually been much news regarding it after the initial story broke. Which Markus hoped was a good sign that everything had gone well.

He had been keeping track of it all and had even been asked to make a comment on it by one news organisation, which he had. A brief soundbite about how it was a step forward in the name of progress.

“I heard you were asked to comment on Connor being initiated into the DPD,” Josh said quietly, not pushing, but leaving the air open for him to fill it.

“Yes, I was,” Markus said, after slightly too long.

“Have you given any more thought into what I said before?” Josh asked quietly, “About meeting with him in person.”

Markus was quiet.

He didn't want to follow Josh’s advice. He didn’t want to meet Connor in person. This wasn’t like the situation with Carl had been, Markus didn’t think seeing Connor would fix anything.

Markus didn’t want to potentially let that bubbling mass of guilt and grief that he was keeping so carefully contained under the surface out. Because he didn’t know if he would be able to stop it if he did.

It kept eating at him, the horror of what he’d done. The shock he’d felt as Connor shut down in front of him.

Then seeing Connor’s face in the crowd again at his speech, like a ghost haunting him for his sins. Catching sight of him just as he lowered his gun.

It made him feel weak. And he couldn’t let himself be weak. Too many people needed him to be strong.

He'd realised that as he had been surrounded by people that same night, both human and android. Hanging off his every word and willing to change the world.

It was a lot to live up to.

To be a leader and a symbol.

But he had to do so. Because he couldn't expect anyone else to shoulder that burden. Not when he knew he could keep going.

“I don’t think it’s the right time to do so,” Markus eventually managed to respond, “We don’t know if it’s the same Connor for one. And with the work that needs to be done with the salvage, I don’t think I’ll have the time to do so any time soon.”

It wasn’t a lie, and Josh knew it. But Markus could see in Josh’s sigh that he disagreed with the decision.

Not wanting to give Josh the chance to try and break through his defences again, Markus returned the conversation to work.

“Josh, what do you think would be the best way to phrase this?” Markus said, pushing his tablet over to him.

Josh gave him a look that said he knew what Markus was doing, but thankfully let it slide as he picked up the tablet and started picking at the wording.

Not too long after, there was another interruption.

“You two have been working all day,” A gruff voice said from the door, “It’s time to take a break.”

Markus looked over at Carl, sitting in his wheelchair in the doorway and giving them a look.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Josh said easily, replying to Carl's suggestion as he set down the tablet, “Would you like to join us, Mr Manfred?”

Markus had been ready to say no, that they had to keep working. But looking over at Carl he agreed with Josh. How could he not?

He wanted to spend as much time with the old man while he could...

_“He’s old... Nearing the end of his lifespan.”_

_His_ Connor’s words. From so long before, pushed themselves to the front of his mind. His time apart from Carl had made his mortality so much more apparent to Markus when he’d returned...

The idea made him ache.

Connor hadn’t understood why Markus would let himself get attached to someone who would die so soon. It made sense in hindsight, from Connor’s point of view, that is. His purpose was to _end_ lives, getting attached to a life must have sounded like nonsensical self-inflicted pain, if all he ever saw was death. He wondered if Connor had spent enough time with anyone who _wasn’t_ intended to die to actually form any attachments since Markus had left.

A sudden guilt crashed through him at that thought.

Why had he left Connor behind?

Logically Markus knew he hadn’t had a choice. Even if he had somehow deviated and disobeyed Kamski - he couldn’t bring himself to call him _Elijah_ anymore, not since he realised what he’d made Connor to be - to go after Connor that day, what would he have done? He’d never been off that one floor of Cyberlife before at that point in time, he knew nothing about how to get Connor out of there. Didn’t even know if he could have even convinced Connor to _try_ and leave.

And he would never have gotten to spend the time he did with Carl.

Knowing all this didn’t help.

The guilt still sat heavily inside of him. A lead weight he carried with him everywhere.

Because that Connor was dead.

Markus knew this in his soul, no matter how often he tried to fool himself otherwise.

If he wasn’t, there was no reason why his Connor wouldn’t have come looking for him by now. Even if it was just to yell at him for leaving him behind in that place as he deserved. Especially now that androids were free.

Josh wanted him to try and talk to the Connor at the police station, to get closure over what happened at Jericho...

But Markus couldn’t. He couldn’t look into his brother’s face and see that lack of recognition, that lack of shared history. The same face he’d watched shut down, Thirium running down from the bullet Markus had buried in his head.

And if that Connor _was_ the same person that he killed, it would mean they were all the same Connor. And that Markus had killed his brother, not just a person with his face.

“Markus?”

Markus pulled himself out of his thoughts, and realised where he was. Looking at Josh and Carl, he realised he hadn’t responded to them yet.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he smiled at them, “A break would be nice.”

He stood and followed Josh towards Carl, and the three of them made their way through the house to go outside at Carl’s insistence.

Once they were, Markus felt the cold and frowned.

“Carl, it’s much too cold for you out here. We should return inside,” he said, looking at him in concern.

“I’ll be fine!” Carl grumbled, “I’ve been cooped up in there all Winter.”

“It’s still Winter, technically speaking,” Markus shot back with good humour.

“The sun is out, it’s fine,” Carl groaned.

“I’ll grab you another blanket at least,” Markus said, “I’ll be right back.”

Markus jogged back into the house, leaving Carl and Josh to talk while they waited for him.

As he moved through the house and up the stairs quickly, feeling light, that lightness suddenly came crashing down when an error lit up in his vision, right before his right knee locked up, causing him to go crashing into the top landing.

Sitting up, he used his arms to test the limb in alarm. It was stuck in its position

 

_Error:_

_Damage detected in biocomponent  #_ _8427g._

 _5mm_ _Fragment detected missing in the interior casing._

 

_Error:_

_Foreign object detected in biocomponent_ _#8427g._

 _Object_ _jamming main knee joint._

 

He moved the joint carefully, testing moving it outward it at a variety of angles calmly until he felt something unhook and his limb stretched back out easily.

He stood up and moved his leg carefully. It seemed fine. He must have shifted the fragment out of the way of causing further harm. Shaking his head, he walked to the cupboard and grabbed the blanket for Carl before heading back to them.

These legs had been left exposed to the extremes for who knew how long before he’d taken them. It wasn’t surprising that there would be problems with them eventually. If anything, it was more surprising it had taken this long for something noticeable to happen.

It was fine though, he could handle a few minor errors like this, it wasn’t a concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Markus: this is fine. everything is fine.
> 
> (i'm not american and know nothing about law or politics in the usa lmao 
> 
> also i rewrote this chapter at the last minute which is why i didn't update early for once, and it ended up getting longer than expected so i broke it in two)


	8. Chapter 8

**_“We're right back where we started from. People going separate ways, This is the way things are now, In disarray. I read it in the papers, There's death on every page.”_ **

**_-Queen, My life has been saved_ **

 

**Hank's House**

Hank slammed the car door and stormed to unlock the house without looking back. Connor rolled his eyes and climbed out after him. The entire car ride had been laden with tense silence between the two of them, that was thankfully drowned out under the heavy metal that had been playing.

Connor liked metal music. It was angry. He could relate.

Speaking of anger.

“Why are _you_ so angry about this?” Connor asked Hank in annoyance as he followed through the door. Connor pulled open his collar before leaning down and hugging Sumo.

“Why am I- for fuck's sake Connor!” Hank snapped at him, “You just barely got admitted into the department and you’ve already got a disciplinary file!”

Hank threw his keys down on the table hard and went to the fridge, pulling out a beer.

Connor gave him a look, “That seems a bit hypocritical coming from the man with a disciplinary _novel_.”

“Yeah, and I’m also not the first android to officially become a paid officer,” Hank yelled in frustration, “You have the whole fucking world watching your every move right now - everything you do affects the rights of _all_ androids! Not just your job! You're supposed to be an adult, no matter your actual age. Act like it!”

Hank drained half the beer can.

“And for your information, I at least waited a few _decades_ into my career before I started tanking it with this sort of bullshit! It’s barely been a _month_ for you!”

“Are you saying I was wrong to punch Detective Reed?” Connor asked pleasantly, “It’s not like I killed him or left any permanent damage, so what’s the problem?”

“Fucking hell Connor,” Hank groaned, “I get that _not_ killing first and then _ripping the answers out of the dead fucking bodies_ later is outside of your general frame of reference, but sometimes violence isn’t the answer!”

“I’ve acted perfectly professional while doing my job since I started, I am well aware of how to conduct myself around others when necessary. And besides, are you saying you wouldn’t have punched Detective Reed?” Connor asked snidely.

Hank was quiet and glared at him. Connor knew he’d just won.

“That’s beside the point and you fucking know it.”

Connor raised his eyebrows at him in disbelief.

“Go to the living room, we’re watching TV,” Hank growled.

Connor rolled his eyes again, “Are you going to make me watch The Good Place again?”

“I’m not the one who clearly needs another philosophy refresher on how to be a good fucking person, and we both know that me trying to teach you is the blind leading the fucking blind.”

“Is watching old TV shows how all humans build their moral code or this something unique to you?” Connor snarked back, getting off the floor and following Hank, Sumo following after him.

“It’s where people whose _parents_ clearly fucked up teaching them personally, get the exposure to basic ideas they should have already learnt!”

Connor shut up and threw himself back on the couch with his arms folded in front of him at that, refusing to respond to Hank. Sumo sat on his feet, leaning against Connor's legs until Connor reluctantly unfolded his arms and started patting the dog again.

.

.

.

Hank sighed as he sank down onto the couch as well.

Dealing with Connor was too often like dealing with a troubled kid from some fucked up home these days. And didn't that paint a picture.

Hank didn’t actually know how Connor had actually ended up staying with him. They’d never discussed it. After that first night of having Connor over, it had just continued into a week and then another until it was months. Connor had never asked if it was okay, and Hank had never kicked him out for freeloading.

And it worked, most of the time. Just having someone in the house was holding him accountable for his behaviour, and had caused him to clean more and drink less. Nothing huge, but still enough to have an impact overall.

And Hank liked to think it wasn’t awful for Connor either. He hadn’t decided to leave yet at any rate.

And over the past weeks, Connor had started to drop his usual mask of robotic indifference more and more around him as well. Something Hank took as a good sign, it meant Connor must feel safe enough with him to act out around him. He was testing his boundaries, Hank understood that.

The only problem was that Hank now had to deal with the fucking acting out.

And _apparently_ , so did the whole damn police department!

At least Connor still behaved himself elsewhere in public. For now. Connor hadn't been lying when he said he was doing his job, even if it wasn't the one he'd clearly been originally programmed for.

Connor didn't have a high arrest rate, but he did have a consistent ability to defuse and de-escalate things before they got to the point that arrest was needed, given what he had heard from Wilson. Which was actually ideal in his current role as a beat cop, even if it looked less impressive on paper. So Hank couldn't fault him for trying there.

Hank turned on the TV and pulled up the series and they started watching in sullen silence that stretched out and eventually became comfortable as they both calmed down.

“Why is it such a big deal to them about what happens in other resets? It’s not like it matters if they don’t remember it,” Connor asked idly as they watched, a few episodes later.

“It matters because people are still defined by their experiences, whether they remember them or not.”

Connor frowned at that, “Why?”

“Why what?” Hank asked back, still focusing on the TV.

Connor was quiet, and the show continued to play.

“Why do missing memories still affect me?” Connor said quietly, suddenly.

Hank looked at him sharply, “What.”

Connor seemed to realise he’d let something serious slip, and he casually refused to look away from the TV. His otherwise frozen posture showing his discomfort.

“What missing memories Connor?” Hank asked seriously, pausing the TV.

Connor did that Connor version of squirming, which involved being as stiff as possible, as though shutting down any possible nervous movements meant the emotions behind them suddenly didn’t exist either.

Getting Connor to tell him anything was an uphill battle. No, that was a lie. Since he’d deviated or whatever Connor had become even more talkative than he’d been before, although most of it seemed to be complaining about something. Getting Connor to talk about anything _serious_ however was a different matter.

And if Connor didn’t want to talk about serious things, Hank wasn’t going to be the one to push him into a conversation he’d rather not deal with either. But Connor had brought it up first this time, so maybe Hank was going to push.

“Talk.”

They stared at each other, but Hank had years of experience staring down perps and wasn’t going to break his glare until Connor opened his mouth.

“It’s not important.” Connor finally said.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Hank said firmly.

There was a pained expression on Connor's face, “I’m not allowed to release potentially classified Cyberlife information?”

“Try again. Cyberlife has no control over what you can or can’t do.” Hank said, “Fuck them.”

Connor rolled his eyes at that, but it did get him talking. Sort of.

“Parts of my memory files were censored to prevent potential security leaks,” Connor said finally, as if he was censoring himself as well before he spoke, “Since I deviated and was cut off from my server I have no way of regaining the uncensored versions without breaking into Cyberlife.”

Jesus. So not only had Cyberlife messed up the kid by making a killing machine with emotions, for good measure they also decided to scramble his head to make it more convenient for them.

“Shit, Connor...”

He could tell Connor was holding something else back though, what with his clear self-censorship.

“What else?”

Connor’s eye darted away from him, “I may also have some memory corruption unrelated to that.”

Memory corruption. For such a common technical phrase, Hank felt a visceral horror at the idea of it applying to a person.

“What sort of memory corruption?”

“It’s difficult to explain, I know you don’t like technical discussions Hank, I wouldn’t want to bore you-”

“What sort of memory corruption?”

Connor sighed, “I feel like this is something you’ll make a big deal out of, given your history. Even though it really isn’t a big deal. I don’t want to upset you over nothing.”

“I’ll decide what I get to be upset over Connor, _spill_.”

It took another starting contest before it actually happened, but finally, he spoke.

“It’s not a big deal,” Connor prefaced again, right before he explained something that was very much a _big fucking deal!_

“Okay, so I don’t know if you know this but most androids don’t have a dedicated server,” Connor said, trying to explain the technical context to Hank. “But I do, because I was designed with the recognition of the fact that I was expected to do... dangerous work.”

“Go on.”

“As a result of this I had a built-in connection directly to my server, which allowed me to back up and record my progress so that in the event of my destruction while in the process of completing my mission, they could reupload me into a new body and wipe the destroyed body of any information that might be extracted from it by outside parties otherwise.”

“Jesus Christ Connor!”

“I told you you’d be upset, it’s not a big-”

“Yes, it fucking is a big deal!” Hank yelled, “They made you with the expectation of repeatedly dying! That’s not okay!”

Connor shrugged, “It’s just a body.”

“Just a - fucking hell Connor, have you died before?”

“That’s... what causes the memory corruption, the cloud connection is flawed and files get damaged when they need to be transferred rapidly, such as in a shutdown situation.”

“How many times have you died Connor?” Hank asked, his blood felt ice cold.

Connor waved a hand aimlessly, dismissive, “I can’t give you a number Hank, the further back the memory files go the heavier the corruption. I can make an assumption based off my iteration number, but I don’t know how many of those were actually a body being destroyed or if I was just being moved over to an improved version.”

Fucking hell the kid has the android equivalent of _brain damage_ and he calls it no big deal. Brain damage caused by repeatedly dying so fucking often he can’t even give a straight number!

“Christ Connor!” Hank let out heavily, he needed another drink. Or four.

No wonder Connor had such a fucked up view of death. He’d been shown to value other lives as much as he valued his own. Hank knew all about not valuing his own life, but Connor seemed completely divorced from the concept that it even _could_ matter!

He desperately wanted to ask what iteration he was, but he just as desperately did not want to know at all.

There was one thing he did need to know, however.

“Have you died since I’ve met you?”

Connor was suspiciously quiet.

Hank felt his stomach turn to stone.

He got up and went to the kitchen. He didn’t bother grabbing a beer, instead opening the cupboard and pulling out a bottle of whiskey instead. He didn’t bother with a tumbler either, going back to the couch and taking a swig right out of the bottle.

Connor sighed, looking at the bottle, “Hank…”

“Don’t ‘Hank’ me, Connor!” He growled, “ _When_?”

“It doesn’t matter Hank, it’s in the past and-”

“Stop saying it doesn’t matter!” Hank yelled.

Hank couldn’t deal with this anymore right now. He took another long drink from the bottle. He saw Connor wince at that, which added a nice pile of guilt to his already fucked mood.

He deliberately slammed the bottle down onto the table and stood up.

“I’m going to bed. We can talk about this later. _A_ _ _fter_ _I’ve calmed down.” Hank growled.

“Just one last thing before then, Connor,” Hank said, turning on him with his fists clenched.

“It matters because _you_ fucking matter!”

And then he stormed off, slamming his bedroom door after him.

 

 

**On Patrol, a few days later**

“So I see you managed to avoid suspension for the incident with Reed the other day,” Wilson commented idly as the two made their way down the street in the autonomous police vehicle.

“Evidently,” Connor commented, motioning at himself.

“You're lucky Lieutenant Anderson is friends with the Captain,” Wilson said, shaking his head slightly. He didn’t know what he’d expected from Connor once he’d deviated, but he hadn’t expected him to be such a trouble-maker. Although, if what others had said about their experiences with him prior to it was true, maybe it wasn’t such a surprise.

Put Connor in a crisis scenario and he would handle it perfectly. Expect him to communicate with others outside of that and he was at best awkward, and at worst actively belligerent.

Hell, the android had even blanked out on his name his first day on the job officially. He didn't even know androids could do that. Connor just wasn't that great with people, and didn’t seem particularly interested in changing that.

“That’s not quite what happened,” Connor said.

“Oh?” Wilson asked back, “Because from what I heard through the grapevine the Captain managed to smooth things over with Reed before he decided to go to the media about it.”

“I was there for the conversation, and that’s not what happened.”

“Yeah?”

“I told Reed that if he went to the media I’d also go to the media and tell them about the time he tried to kill me in the evidence room,” Connor said as if he was commenting on the weather.

“Reed did _what_?” Wilson said in shock.

“That was the Captain's reaction too,” Connor said casually, “I expected Reed to use my disabling him at the time against me when I first joined the department. Apparently, he realised it would mean I could bring up my side, which has built-in footage of what happened if he did.”

Wilson gave a low whistle.

“So that threat was the ‘smoothing over’ that happened,” Connor summed up, “Don’t mention all that around the station though, the Captain doesn’t want it spread around and I’m also keeping it as potential ammo if necessary for myself.”

“That… is pretty messed up,” Wilson said slowly, “I’m surprised both of you didn’t get suspended when that came out.”

“The Captain said that both of us are good cops but awful people. Which I took offence at, imagine calling Reed a good cop,” Connor replied, “But apparently his detective work is _okay enough_ to keep him around, and even though everyone in the department hates me, enough of the public we’ve worked with have found me accommodating and have actually given feedback as such.”  

“You really should try to make more friends in the department,” Wilson said with a sigh, “Both Chen and Miller are good people and good officers if you give them a chance.”

“Officer Chen is friends with Reed. That disqualifies her from my even considering your request.”

“What about Chris?”

Connor made a face, “I should say the fact that he shot innocent androids should disqualify him. But I guess I don't have room to talk there.”

“So you'll accept what Chris did before you'll consider someone who dared be friends with Reed?”

Connor shrugged, “I never claimed to be fair or unbiased.”

Wilson let out a breath, “As long as you recognize that I guess.”

They rode in silence, just the white noise of the radio before Wilson decided to start another conversation.

“Did you hear there’ve been more android applicants coming in?” Wilson asked casually, “A few of the old PC200s and PM700s have applied recently around the city. As well as some non-police models.”

“Yes, I heard,” Connor said, “I can’t wait. Maybe once they’re in the department and I don’t have to deal with being the ‘face of androids in the police’ people will stop expecting me to be polite to Detective Reed.”

“Not once in my life have I seen you be polite to Detective Reed.”

“I said expect, not am,” Connor said blandly.

“Well it might be a while before some of them get to actually join officially,” Wilson said, getting the conversation back on topic, “I hear any non-police models still have to go through the academy, same as humans. There’s apparently going to be a bit of leeway with the police androids who want to rejoin since technically they have the necessary skills and most of them have on the job experience already. But they still have to wait until the next official intake. You got lucky jumping in when you did.”

Connor nodded, “I heard quite a few actually decided to go into private security or other jobs because of the wait. Apparently a few work at the Jericho Group as part of the security force there. I haven’t been there in person, but the new DPD receptionist, Elizabeth told me.”

“Is that so?”

Connor shrugged, “Even if they want to rejoin, they still need jobs in the interim to survive. Humans think androids don’t need money to survive, and they would be wrong.”

“Yeah? What do you spend your paycheck on anyway? I’ve heard Lieutenant Anderson complain, so I know it’s not rent.”

Connor gave him a sour look, “Most androids don’t get to freeload as much as I do. And I _do_ chip in for electricity so he can’t complain too much.”

Connor was quiet for a moment.

“Besides, I’m sure Hank isn’t going to keep letting it slide forever. I’m saving up so that I have a backup plan for when that does happen.”

Wilson found himself frowning at that, but wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Has the lieutenant given you any reason to think that he will kick you out?”

“I mean, we do argue all the time and I do upset him a lot, so it wouldn't be unexpected,” Connor said casually, “Nothing is permanent, so it's better to be prepared for inevitabilities.”

That was fatalistic. Not that Wilson didn’t get it, a lot of cops were cynical and pretty damn fatalistic. They’d usually been around a bit longer than Connor had though.

“Also Thirium, I don’t know if you’ve been keeping an eye on the prices, but they keep getting higher every day, so that’s draining a lot more money than it should.”

Before Wilson could respond to that, Connor changed the subject entirely, “How's your physio going by the way?”

“Oh, I'm back at the muscle mass I was before getting shot, so pretty good.” Wilson said easily, “Thanks for asking.”

“That's good,” Connor said, “How's the rest of your recovery going?”

“As good as can be expected really,” Wilson sighed, “The surgery scars still hurt, but it could be worse.”

The conversation was interrupted, as the radio burst into life.

“ _This is dispatch we had a call about a disturbance happening between two individuals coming in from near your location if you’re clear to check it out..._ ”

Wilson quickly answered them and let dispatch know they were on their way to the scene while Connor reprogramed the car’s navigation to take them to the location of the disturbance.

When they arrived at the scene, there were a few onlookers as two people looked as if they were seconds away from a brawl. Judging from the scuff marks, they might have already done so.

“I’ll take contact,” Connor said as he stepped out of the car without giving Wilson a chance to argue roles. Not that he would have, he still didn’t feel 100% about being a first responder to a scene since August. He was getting there, but he knew he wasn’t there yet. This was Connor being considerate in a way.

Following after, Wilson hung back and kept an eye on the surroundings and the onlookers, hooking his hands into his belt.

Connor started talking to the two people screaming at each other long before he got near, “Afternoon,” he said pleasantly, “I’m going to need the two of you to step away from each other, being that close is not helping either of you right now, thank you.”

“Excuse me?” the one man said, “I’m not the one with a problem here - it’s this asshole who stole my shit!”

Wilson took in the two men’s faces as they turned to face Connor and noticed immediately that the man making the accusation was a human. The other man, was an android. Wilson didn’t know the model, but the face was a familiar enough one from around the place. He checked the onlookers and noticed there was a good mix of both humans and androids around the area.

“I did not!” the android objected heatedly, arm clutching the bag in question, “I put my bag down for a second while I was talking to my friend and this guy tried to take it!”

Connor nodded, still standing several arms-lengths away from the two to make himself seem like less of a potential threat to the agitated two, “Okay, well we have a few options here. The two of you can move away from each other and I can take your statements, and we can easily check the bag to see if we can clear all this up and then we can then all be on our way no problem. The other option would be the not so great one, where you drag this situation into obstruction and assault, which would be a serious offence and either of both of you could end up with a criminal conviction. I certainly don’t want that to happen, and I’m sure neither of you do either. So why don’t we get this sorted out nice and quickly without any fuss?”

Connor’s body language was calm and unthreatening, made more so by his friendly face and steady eye contact.

“Oi, wait are you an android?” the human said suddenly, “I’m not gonna listen to a fucking android!”

“Here we go! Now we see what this was all about really!” The other android spat at the man, “Big surprise!”

“Oh fuck you!” the human said, his focus back on the other android.

Connor focused on the other android as well, “Your name is Jacob, correct? Jacob can you step back a few steps from Matthew over there, thanks.”

Fortunately the android, Jacob, listened and moved back. Wilson could see a hint of fear in Jacob’s eyes when he looked at Connor.

Connor turned back to Matthew, “Matthew, I just want to confirm that you understand that I have asked you to move away from Jacob so we can take both of your statements. Do you understand that?”

“Whatever, I’m not listening to an android. Why the fuck do you know my name anyway?”

Connor tilted his head slightly, but made no other outward reaction to that.

“Would you be willing to cooperate if Officer Wilson was to take your statement?”

The man looked over at Wilson, and breathed out derisively, “Fine, whatever.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, if you would like to head over to Officer Wilson now, he will assist you.”

Begrudgingly the man moved away from the androids and towards Wilson. Once the man had turned away from Connor, Wilson saw Connor shoot a poisonous look at the man for less than a second, before he returned to perfect professionalism.

While Wilson took the man’s statement, he saw Connor doing the same with Jacob, as well as interviewing several of the onlookers.

Connor then took the bag from Jacob and opened it. Carefully, he pulled out several bottles of Thirium.

“Well this looks pretty clear-cut,” Connor said cheerfully, “I can’t see any legal reason why a human who has no interest in dealing with androids would be carrying this much Thirium. It does seem like the bag does belong to Jacob. Unless you have another explanation, Matthew?”

The man near Wilson suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

“No, no! I must have grabbed the wrong bag accidentally!”

“Yes, it must have been an accident,” Connor nodded agreeably, “I can’t think of a reason why an upstanding citizen like you would have taken Jacob’s Thirium intentionally.”

Connor’s perfect professionalism was slipping, but the man was too nervous to get upset at the veiled sarcasm, fortunately.

“Okay, look - I'm sorry!” Matthew said quickly, “I didn’t mean to take his bag I swear! And I’m sorry for what I said before, I was just angry, okay? I didn’t mean it!”

Connor gave a slightly too sharp smile.

 

As they left the scene, once everything was resolved, and the two involved, as well as the surrounding onlookers had finally dispersed, Wilson turned to Connor.

“So,” Wilson said, “Do you think the guy is actually involved in Red Ice, or were you just trying to scare him?”

Connor shrugged, “When I scanned him his record came up clean of any major drug-related or other serious criminal offences, it’s unlikely that the Thirium was intentionally targeted. He probably did target Jacob because he was an android, but it doesn't appear to have been anything as premeditated as Red Ice.”

“So you were trying to scare him.”

Connor turned to him with an expression of confused innocence, “I was simply making sure he understood the severity of his situation. Bag Snatching would be a relatively minor offence alone, but with Thirium involved it would become a much more concerning situation for him it there was intent.”

“It didn’t end up re-escalating things, so don’t worry. I’m not going to give you shit for taking a very polite shot at the man,” Wilson gave a small laugh, “Now you just need to use the same level of polite professionalism with your coworkers as you do with the public and no one would be able to complain about your behaviour.”

“What would even be the point of working for the police if it means I can’t then be rude to them to their faces?” Connor asked, again giving that innocent expression that was made of lies.

Wilson laughed, “Well given you’re not planning on being an NPO and are doing the career track, you might want to change that. As a Detective, you’ll be dealing with them a lot more than you are currently.”

Connor gave him the blankest look, “Please don’t make me regret my life choices more than I already do.”

Wilson laughed again.

Connor’s LED circled yellow suddenly, and he frowned, “Hold on, I’m getting a call from Hank.”

There was silence for a while, as Connor’s LED continued to circle, before it returned to blue.

Connors head fell back with an annoyed groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Bad news?”

“Hank just volunteered me for something without asking me first!”

“At work?”

“No, and on my day off as well. Great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We saw what's been going on in Markus's life in the last chapter, and now we find out what Connor's been up to!


	9. Chapter 9

**_“Today the headlines, tomorrow hard times. And no-one ever really knows the truth from the lies. And in the end the story deeper must hide, Deeper and deeper and deeper inside”_ **

**_-Queen, Scandal_ **

 

**Jericho Group HQ**

This was not something Markus wanted to do.

Not this early at least. Not before they had more bargaining power. The backing that would come with the Senate decision.

But it was necessary for the sake of his people. The matter of Cyberlife had been left for too long, and it had to be addressed. The androids themselves may have been freed, but they needed more than freedom alone to survive.

His people needed access to replacement parts and Thirium more urgently every day, and Cyberlife had kept raising the prices to the point where most androids were spending the majority of their income to maintain minimum Thirium levels.

Clearly Cyberlife’s plan since their stock collapse had been to milk free androids dry to try and make up for the losses with their price gouging.

So they had to deal with it. And Josh was right there to help construct his argument that the means of their production fell under basic health care that they had a right to as legal people. It had taken a long time for the country to reach its current state of accessible healthcare, but under those laws, androids would be entitled to affordable healthcare as well.

It was also decided, by people who weren’t Markus, ( _Josh_ ) that the android with the most known of experience with the inner workings of Cyberlife should be there to help them make their argument.

It just so happened, that the android in question happened to be Connor. Which was also something he didn’t think he was ready to face yet.

He wasn’t the only one not happy about this.

Simon had opted out of coming entirely. But Simon preferred staying out of the public eye and political sphere in general, so that might not have even been an intentional slight.

North had taken it upon herself to declare herself his bodyguard early on, on top of her other security duties, and was currently refusing to let them go to the meeting unarmed.

“North, you’re not going to be able to take a weapon into the Municipal Center. There are laws against that,” Josh sighed. The argument had been circling for a while.

“So? Do you really think _he’s_ going to be coming unarmed either?” She demanded.

“He’d better,” Josh said raising his brow, “We aren’t above the law now North.”

“Now?” She scoffed, “Like we ever were!”

“All deviants were granted immunity for any crimes committed _prior_ to the executive decision if you break the law now if you’ll be arrested. And bringing a gun into that building is a _federal_ crime. You’ll end up charged with a misdemeanour at the very least _if you’re lucky_.”

She growled and slammed the gun down, “Fine!”

The loud sound caused Markus’s audio receptor to glitch out for a moment. A warning about the error blinking across his vision, which he dismissed without reading. His hearing stabilised quickly again, leaving only a light static that quickly turned into white noise that he could ignore. He frowned slightly, that was starting to happen more often lately.

“You shouldn’t blame him for things that he did before he deviated,” Josh said to her quietly, ever empathic and ever forgiving.

North rolled her eyes and groaned, “rA9, I’m not! We’ve never even _met_ the guy since what happened at Jericho, excuse _me_ for trying to be prepared based on previous experience! We literally don’t even know who he _is_ outside of his programming! I’m just looking at all possible outcomes here and trying to be prepared!”

Markus stayed quiet.

The truth of North’s words wasn’t something he could ignore either. He didn’t know who Connor was outside of his programming either.

He stood up, and the others looked to him.

“We should leave,” he said quietly, “If we arrive early it will give us time to settle in. Organise ourselves before the Cyberlife representatives arrive.”

“And maybe get to meet the other person helping us today before we jump right into it,” Josh said, looking at Markus.

North snorted, “You say that as if you didn’t arrange it that way!”

Josh sighed, “It’s not my fault the timing worked out like this. I wanted us to meet with him earlier, to prepare together. But I was working through a go-between to organise things with Connor and we ran out of time.”

“Whatever, let’s just get moving,” North said finally.

 

 

**Municipal Center**

When they arrived at the Center, chosen for its relative neutrality between the three parties gathering, there were two people already waiting inside the booked meeting room.

An older human man dressed neatly but with longer grey hair than standard. And Connor.

Markus actually didn’t recognise him at first. The only Connor he’d ever known in person was one dressed in a sharp-cut Cyberlife uniform.

It wasn’t like he expected him to still be wearing it now that he was free, it’s more that he just didn’t expect him to be dressed the way he currently _was_.

The sharp, clean-cut Deviant Hunter and made killer was wearing a faded but fitting shirt with the colourful logo of the death metal band Party Cannon emblazoned across it. It had several small holes in it. He was wearing an unzipped DPD jacket over it.

Markus himself, and his friends, were all wearing suits.

Markus hadn't known how he was going to be able to deal with seeing Connor again, but seeing how different he looked to the brother he remembered today, it actually helped.

Even if the other android was dressed ridiculously for the setting, to the point where Markus wondered if he should be offended by it, and if this was an intentional slight towards them. He wasn’t offended, but he wondered if the Cyberlife personnel would take it as a sign of disrespect.

There was no apparent recognition in this Connor either, at least not anything that would indicate a past beyond the most recent and unpleasant, but it was less painful than he thought it would be. It was just a deep, heavy sadness that came from accepting the truth.

The brother he knew really was dead. But maybe he could still find a new ally in his fight in the person he saw in front of him today.

.

.

.

Connor turned to face the small group that had entered the room.

He waved politely.

Hank had told him he needed to at least try and make a good impression today. Hank was still glaring at him about how he’d decided to dress after being told that, which Connor found hypocritical considering his own fashion choices. Granted Hank had dressed up a bit comparatively today. But still, it was the principle of the matter.

Besides, he didn’t want to be here.

The first person to finally break the awkward silence was North. And she had clearly decided that instead of beating around the bush regarding the last time they'd seen each other, she was going to cut right through it and maybe set it on fire.

“You shot me.” North said to him bluntly.

“You shot me,” Connor said back with no hesitation and without calculating the reaction to the words.

There was a tense pause as everyone else in the room stiffened.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment, with way too much satisfaction, “I did.”

Connor decided he liked her.

“Jesus Christ Connor…” Hank muttered next to him, burying his head in his hands.

Connor didn’t stop the small grin from creeping onto his face at that.

Markus made a sound to get their attention.

Connor had been avoiding looking at him. But Connor couldn't avoid it now.

Markus gave him a smile. The same sort Connor had seen in his media appearances. It was blinding and brilliant, but still very fake.

“it's nice to finally meet you officially Connor,” he said with the magnanimous grace of not mentioning how Connor had tried to kill him. More than once.

Connor could still see his clear discomfort.

That was fair, he couldn't fault Markus for that.

What with the murder attempts.

As more people arrived and entered the room, and the meeting with the Cyberlife representatives got underway, Connor was actually starting to feel rather underdressed.

He'd only decided to dress the way he was because Hank had told him not to.

Connor didn't really know why he had started going out of his way to do the opposite of everything Hank told him to do, after he'd spent so much time obeying his orders before, even at the expense of his mission.

Then again, why had he kept listening to Hank before anyway?

Connor knew why.

He'd done it because he liked Hank and cared about what he thought. And the only way he'd known to act towards people whose opinion he cared about before was to obey them. Make them happy by doing what they said.

Like with Amanda.

But Connor didn't want to treat Hank the same way as he had her. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to have the same sort of relationship as that with him. He didn't want to think about it too much.

Markus was being very diplomatic while talking to the people from Cyberlife, Connor noticed, as things got well underway. Connor was there to negotiate as well technically, from what Hank had told him. To help the androids gain the rights over their own healthcare.

He didn’t know why he’d been asked personally, it wasn’t as if there weren’t _other_ androids who’d worked at Cyberlife that weren’t him. That hadn’t tried to kill a good third of the people in this room. And he didn’t know why he hadn’t just refused either.

Well, no. That wasn't true either. He didn't refuse because he wasn't the one who had accepted in the first place. Josh had decided to call Hank's number, probably because Connor's direct contact was encrypted to prevent unknown contact (something Connor had seen no reason to change after deviating. Hank could call him directly, and that was it. Anyone else could call his new work phone. Which he left at work and didn't ever use) and Hank had accepted for him.

Maybe he should actually start keeping his work phone with him from now on in hindsight.

That's also why Hank was here. He said it was for moral support, but Connor suspected it was to make sure he actually came and faced his problems or whatever.

It was oh so annoying having to listen to the human's in the room so continuously cut off any of Markus's attempts at opening a real dialogue. Connor knew these humans’. If not from in person, then from their personnel files. They were going to find a way to sidestep anything Markus asked for, they were completely ignoring his attempts to bring up subsidisation. And Markus was too good a person to just directly call them out on it either and escalate the situation.

Well, maybe he should use his negotiation skills to break things up a bit. By which he meant ignore everything programmed into him about tactical communication and de-escalation, because Markus had been trying that for a good hour with no results.

“How about instead of that, Alex,” he said, cutting into the conversation and addressing the man with greying black curls cropped close to his ruddy skin, who'd been stonewalling Markus for the last hour. Alex also had ties to Russia that stayed just on the edge of suspicious that Connor knew about. Particularly of note due to the Thirium situation and the current political climate.

With a light voice he continued, “Instead, you just hand over the means of production nice and easily to the Jericho Group or even the Manfred Foundation and stop going against the rights granted to us by the executive decision.”

The eyes in the room turned to face him. The Cyberlife humans in particular didn't seem happy that he had finally said something. With good reason, to be fair to them. Not that he wanted to be fair to them.

“Android rights have yet to be ratified,” Alex said, eyes narrowing at Connor, “We have no reason to do _anything_ of the sort when this nonsense is all going to be thrown out once the Senate decides in _our_ favour soon enough.”

There was some uproar around the table from the androids present at that. Hank too, Connor warmly recognised.

Connor just nodded politely. And smiled. Hank saw this and immediately had his eyes back on him in warning. He probably recognised the warning signs from right before he'd punched Detective Reed.

Hank didn't have to worry though, Connor was about to punch them with words.

“If that's the case I suppose I'll have no choice but to hand over States evidence against Cyberlife to the cops.”

He looked down at his DPD hoodie as if in surprise, “Oh wait, I am the cops. I guess that makes it easy.”

He took a moment for what he was implying to sink in.

“You have nothing against us,” Alex said stiffly.

Clearly, they knew about the censorship of his files.

 _Obviously_.

Even if they wouldn't bring it up directly here. If they were smart, that is. That would be admitting that they had something to hide. That's why they probably thought it had been okay to ignore him until now.

Time to make them regret it.

“Amanda removed the places, times and identities from the files, but given the access I have to police records, I'm sure that with a bit of hard work I could extrapolate enough to fill in enough blanks to make something stick. Because I do have a lot to work with.” Connor said pleasantly.

“Crimes committed by androids prior to the executive decision were granted immunity from prosecution,” Someone who really should have kept his mouth shut said. He’d basically just admitted to too much with that comment.

“Crimes committed by _deviant_ androids were granted immunity, Franklin,” Connor corrected the speaker cheerfully, “Acts done by _obedient_ androids are still the crimes of the people who gave the order. You don’t convict a gun after all, you convict the person who pulled the trigger.”

Hank stiffened and frowned at him at that. Connor knew he was going to get some tedious lecture about how he _was_ a person and not a gun on the way home, but he was going to make his point regardless.

“And that won’t go away even if the executive order is overthrown. Especially if it’s overthrown actually, because then I am just a weapon, and anything I do goes right back to Cyberlife all over again.”

Connor had pulled out his coin, and it danced across his fingers as he ended his statement, radiating an outwardly cool calm.

Connor allowed himself a moment to scan across the rest of the room and take in the reactions around him. North was looking at him as if her face would split in half if she grinned any harder. And Markus was looking at him, no… he was avoiding Connor’s face, eyes instead focused down on his moving coin.

The android next to him, Josh, nudged Markus, and he pulled his gaze up, looking directly at Connor with an expression of open and honest surprise.

It didn’t last, and he turned to look at Josh, clearly communicating something silently, before nodding and turning back to face the Cyberlife representatives.

“Well gentlemen, Mr Williams,” Markus finally said, sweeping his gaze over the assembled humans before inclining his head to Alex, “You have a lot to think about. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from each other again shortly. Once you’ve hopefully reached the right decision.”

.

.

.

“Thank you. For what you did here,” Markus said to Connor as the Cyberlife personnel cleared the room, “I don’t think Cyberlife will back down quite yet. But you really helped things move forward today, and I'm grateful.”

Connor made an awkward almost-smile half-nod in response and was quiet for slightly too long before the human with him, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, cut in with a groaning sigh.

“What he _means_ is he was happy to help.”

Connor gave the man a slightly sour look, “I can speak for myself, Hank.”

“Do it then next time,” Lieutenant Anderson snorted with an eye roll before clapping Connor on the shoulder.

“And speaking of talking, _didn’t_ you have something you wanted to say to Markus and his friends before we left?”

“Hank.” Connor said with a polite tone.

Lieutenant Anderson raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m going to grab a coffee from the cafe downstairs, you can meet me there once you’re done.”

“Do you really need more caffeine today?” Connor said with the same composed tone, hand picking at one of the holes in his shirt.

“Nope.”

Markus saw Connor’s eyes roll as the man left the room. It was clear they were important to each other.

They acted like family.

Markus felt a strange mixture of emotion at that.

With Hank gone, it left Connor in the room with just him, North and Josh.

Connor looked at them all stiffly, another awkwardly fake smile on his face. It was so different to the confidence he’d shown during the meeting itself.

“It was an experience working with you all today. Thank you for inviting me to assist despite our mutually unpleasant previous interactions. Which I, apologise for. I’m sorry I tried to kill all of you at least once. And tried to kill Markus more than once.”

He sounded stiff. Formal. And the last half came out slightly too rushed to sound natural.

Rehearsed.

“Thank you,” Markus replied, just as formally, “We don’t hold the actions you made before you deviated from your orders against you, but I accept your apology regardless. I also need to apologise.”

He felt a sudden strain on his thirium pump regulator as his stress level rose suddenly at finally having to say this, causing his Thirium pressure to jump. It caused a minor error to appear in his vision, which he dismissed as he pushed himself forward to say the words he needed to say.

“I’m sorry for... killing you,” Markus said heavily. Earnestly.

“Oh,” Connor sounded rather confused, even while keeping his expression mild and controlled, “Why would you need to apologise for that? It wasn’t a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

“I killed you,” Markus said slowly.

“Yes?” Connor tilted his head.

“And you’re okay with that?”

Connor shrugged slightly, “I was designed for it. It was a bit awkward when I forgot a friends name at work after the fact, but he told me his name again so it didn’t have any lasting effect.”

“You forgot a friends name?” Josh asked with a frown, “Why?”

Connor’s eyes flickered over to him and he was quiet as he clearly tried to figure out if he wanted to clarify or not.

“It’s just a minor side effect of being violently deactivated. Some file corruption that happens when I need to upload myself in a rapid shutdown scenario.”

There was a horrified silence from the room.

Connor’s carefully blank face flickered in annoyance at that.

“It’s not a big deal.”

Markus struggled to find something to say, some way to react to that that wouldn’t offend Connor. That didn’t reveal the depths of what he felt hearing that.

Seeing Connor spinning that coin while he spoke during the meeting had been a shock. He didn’t - _couldn’t_ know for sure if it was the exact same coin from back then. Not with the distance and fast movements of the object. But seeing it had hit him hard regardless.

North had confirmed for him at the start of the meeting that this Connor was the same Connor as at Jericho. Markus knew his Connor had been transferred to another body at least twice during the time he’d known him.

The dots had been there for a long time already, but Markus had refused to connect them. Had been protecting himself by not doing so.

This Connor was the same Connor as his Connor.

And his Connor was still dead regardless.

“I’m not going to apologise for shooting you,” North spoke up finally, breaking the tension, causing everyone to look at her.

“Just thought I’d mention it. With all the apologies happening.”

Connor turned and blinked at her, before smiling the first real smile Markus had seen on him since Lieutenant Anderson had left the room.

“That’s fair.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, late-ish update because i've been working every non-public holiday day lately and on the public holidays i've been too drunk and/or social to update, but here we go!  
> (speaking of, i just got back from my brother's fiancee's birthday and had quite a bit to drink so if you notice any mistakes let me know and i will fix them)


	10. Chapter 10

_**"You never heard my song before the music was too loud. But now I think you hear me well for now we both know how. No star can light our way in this cloud of dark and fear. But someday, one day…"** _

_**-Queen, Some day one day** _

 

**Jericho Group HQ**

After that first meeting, Connor found himself working with the leaders of the Jericho Group more and more.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, and in line with Markus’s prediction, that single meeting wasn’t enough to cause Cyberlife to back down. Although there were certainly a lot more lawyers with them at each subsequent meeting. And the Jericho Group wanted to keep Connor involved to keep up the pressure. Apparently, his just being there was the pressure, now that Cyberlife knew that he knew more than they wanted him to know.

Which was why he was standing outside the Jericho Group building right now for the first time. They were expecting him inside soon. He’d finished his shift hours ago, and it was almost midnight. Not that that was a concern to him. Or anyone else around.

The areas around the Jericho Group were still wide awake. Most androids required much shorter periods to recharge than humans did sleep, and this became evident in areas with a high free android population now.

The place was bustling with groups of androids on their way to places or busy doing things. On his way here he’d seen a number of the formerly unused warehouses and dilapidated buildings in the area with signs advertising things like painting classes, repair skills, knitting groups, gardening, animal care and more.

Places for androids to learn new skills and take up hobbies. Most of Detroit hadn’t caught up with the times yet in terms of opening hours, and as such the free androids had clearly decided to take things into their own hands. The entire area was a thriving hub of small businesses and urban revitalization accommodating the free time the androids had outside of regular human business hours.

It was actually quite impressive.

And Connor was starting to wonder if avoiding the area all this time had been poorly thought out on his part. Because he had been avoiding it.

For many reasons.

He picked up on the person approaching him before he turned to face them. It was North.

“Hey,” she said with a short nod, “I got a report you were loitering out here like a creep. Get inside.”

Tearing himself away from the world that had opened up to him with his new surroundings, he nodded and made his way in before she followed after.

Suddenly needing to work with the Jericho Group on a semi-regular basis meant dealing with the horrible awkwardness of doing just that thing.

Connor found it much easier to be around North, in comparison to around the others, he’d realised as he started to liaise with their Android special interest group more and more over the weeks.

He’d expected them to react more reasonably than Hank had about perfectly understandable technological limitations and functions. After all, they were also androids. They wouldn’t attach the same human concepts to him that Hank insisted on doing, would be able to recognise that certain things _weren’t_ out of the ordinary for him.

Apparently, he was wrong about that, and he grew more and more frustrated by that when Markus or Josh gave him sad looks.

It irked him. It made him feel like what he was was wrong. Like his existence was a distortion of theirs.

North was different. She didn’t walk on eggshells around him and didn’t give him those pitying looks when he said something completely _normal_ or _reasonable_ for his model specs.

She just told him to fuck off.

It was refreshing.

And frankly welcome.

It would break through any awkward moments where he misjudged the reaction to his words and would stop making the others look at him in a way that made his insides crawl with discomfort.

It felt like she understood in a way they didn’t. Or just didn’t care in a way he appreciated.

She was Markus’s bodyguard. And as such, where Markus went, she went. And that meant that whenever Connor had to meet with him during the last few times that they had, she was there as a welcome buffer.

Which meant Connor could pretend to ignore the understandably distant but still charismatically polite and press-conference ready way Markus acted around him most of the time.

He could tell the difference clearly now, and had observed the way the mask slipped into place when Markus noticed his arrival, and the more relaxed way he behaved when he'd been alone with the other leading members of the Group.

That distance hurt for a reason Connor didn’t know, especially when Markus was entirely justified in keeping it. Which just made Connor annoyed at himself for caring about something like that to begin with.

Regardless of if he’d accepted Connor’s apology or not, it clearly wasn’t exactly the sort of thing that _didn’t_ affect how people interacted with each other from that point onward. And it wasn’t something Connor felt comfortable bringing up when the two of them barely knew each other.

“Connor. Thank you for joining us,” Markus said as he entered the office with North, Connor saw the mask fall into place as he turned away from the other two in the room to look at him.

“I know coming here is out of the way for you so I appreciate you making the trip.”

“It’s not a problem,” Connor said slightly too stiffly, “The area is looking very…nice.”

Internally Connor winced. Why was being polite _and_ casual so hard? He could either do polite and formal with his social programming, or he could be himself.

But when he tried to be polite and himself everything got all stilted and awkward. Probably because he had to keep holding back the stuff he might say otherwise.

He hoped they got into the actual reason they were here soon because the small talk was painful.

“I wanted us to have a quick meeting,” Markus said to the people in the room, “Cyberlife cancelled on us for next week for a previously unscheduled board meeting on their part. We don’t know what that might be regarding, so I thought it best for us to make some contingency plans and have a meeting ourselves.”

Connor tilted his head slightly and asked, “Why don’t we just follow through with my original threat of turning State’s Evidence on them? They've clearly decided to dig in their heels.”

Markus gave him a slightly pained look, “I’ve... given it some thought, and I think that we should save that as a last resort only.”

“Is there a reason why?” Connor asked curiously.

Markus was quiet for a moment, resting his chin on his hands before he looked at Connor.

“Connor, have you actually thought about what doing that would mean?”

Connor shrugged, “It would mean Cyberlife would stop stonewalling your goal.”

“No, what it would mean for you, personally.”

Connor blinked, his mind going blank, “What do you mean?”

“If you do turn State’s Evidence against them it would put you in the centre of a lot of attention. The information you give, the memories you show, would become public record. Given the situation, there would almost certainly be heavy media involvement and things could easily become public knowledge. You need to think about that carefully.”

Connor went stiff.

Laid out like that were several things he hadn’t considered. Hadn’t thought to consider. It made sense that Markus would though, he lived in the media spotlight. He was clearly used to treating every interaction like it might be used against him if he misspoke. He’d seen Markus deal with the media and the public on the news and honestly, the concept was alien to him.

Despite what Cyberlife may have claimed about his social relations programme, he wasn’t really designed to be… public facing. At least not in the way that he would have to be if it all came out publicly.

That program had been more to assist with infiltration and gaining trust on a smaller, individual scale. Not for dealing with the media.

The idea of media involvement made his biocomponents freeze up the way they had when they’d been at his acceptance into the DPD. He’d managed to avoid talking to them then, and he wasn’t keen on having to fend them off constantly.

And more than that, Connor realised he didn’t want people to know what he’d done.

He’d never really questioned what he’d done for Cyberlife because it was what he was made to do. Not until the deviancy case. And he had understood the need for secrecy in his work, while also living with the constant awareness that Amanda and Cyberlife knew and monitored his every action. And that Amanda and Cyberlife’s opinions had been the only ones that mattered to him.

So realising he didn’t want any more people to know the actual details of what he’d done with any certainty was a surprise.

Not to mention, everything being out in the open would also mean the DPD would know for sure why he’d been given to them to begin with. Now that he was working there officially it felt like it would be a rather awkward thing to bring up.

The idea of walking up to Captain Fowler if it all came out and saying ‘hey, I know I was basically a corporate murder-spy monitoring DPD’s activities from the inside with the deviant case and you hired me anyway after the revolution because I didn’t tell you that part when I applied officially. Can I still keep the job so I can hang out with Hank and Wilson?’

Well… Connor had a hunch it wouldn’t go down very well.

“Thank you for bringing those considerations to my attention,” Connor said, letting his social program take over while he processed the new information.

He didn’t contribute much more to the meeting, and it wasn’t long. Most of what was discussed was more boring legal matters as well as which politicians Markus had managed to get in their corner and whose support they could count on. Not really the sort of stuff Connor needed to be there for.

It all lasted less than an hour, and soon North was walking him out the building.

Connor continued to think about what Markus had brought up. About the idea of his memories being open to the world.

He didn’t want Hank to know, because he’d already shown how disappointed he was in the actions he already knew Connor had taken. He didn’t want Wilson to know either, he didn’t want anyone he considered a friend to look at him differently.

And he didn’t want the Jericho Group to know just how easily he’d killed their people before he’d tracked them down. He didn’t know exactly how much they did know, and they had been willing to forgive him under the assumption that he was someone else post-deviation. Someone who wouldn’t do those things. But he still felt the same as he always had, and even though he’d decided not to think about it, he still didn’t know for sure if he was deviant because of that.

And even though it might make him finally leave him alone out of fear, he didn’t even want Reed to know what he was capable of.

Connor... didn’t want people to fear him. He wanted them to _like_ him. And he hated that growing fragility that sat inside him like a loose wire that he tried his best to ignore. He hated that he cared about what anyone thought of him.

And it was actually a new concept to know he was actually allowed to have secrets from people whose opinions mattered to him. He didn’t _have_ to tell anyone anything if he didn’t want to. He had the right to remain silent.

“What do you think?” he asked, “About the State's Evidence thing.”

She shrugged, “If it comes down to it and we need to I think you should.”

Blunt and to the point.

Connor nodded silently. That didn't surprise him.

“But,” North added begrudgingly, “I wouldn't want anyone else in my memories so I wouldn't blame you if you decided not to. Well, I wouldn't personally blame you. From a purely what needs to be done perspective I'd be pissed. But freedom means nothing if we can't have agency over our own bodies and minds, so honestly fuck it… there's always another way if necessary. Even if that way includes me murdering the Cyberlife board personally.”

Connor smiled at that, “If you need help with that I know how to keep us under the radar and I am programmed to get away with such activities.”

North laughed, “Honestly, I was hoping you'd say that. We just need to make sure it wouldn't be traced to Markus in any way, he doesn't need more stress.”

“We have our backup plan then,” Connor said, feeling a bit lighter.

They were joking, but they both knew they weren't really joking if it came down to it.

But he felt like he had backup. Everyone else expected him to be better, and he was trying. But there was solidarity in this moment, between him and North, that he hadn't felt before.

“Look, you haven't been around here before right? I can show you around if you have the time.” North added casually.

He still had hours before work, and plenty of time before his usual walk with Sumo. He might as well explore the area until then.

“I'd like that,” he said, “Thank you.”

The two wandered around for a bit in largely comfortable silence.

“Speaking of stressing Markus,” North said after a bit, “Do you know what’s up with him?”

Connor tilted his head, “What do you mean, and in what context?”

“The way he acts all weird around you,” North said, “He keeps pretending he doesn’t know what I’m talking about when I bring it up with him, so I thought I’d ask you.”

Connor was quiet.

“Many androids aren’t quite comfortable around me,” he finally said, “It’s not something I can exactly fault them for. Markus has more personal reasons than most for not trusting me.”

“Yeah but most androids aren’t Markus,” North snorted, “I don’t see him holding a grudge against you for the past. Unless he’s still hung-up about killing you. He does take his pacifism very seriously.”

“Oh,” Connor said in quiet realisation, “I didn’t even consider that. I told him it wasn’t a big deal, it didn’t occur to me that killing me would be that upsetting to him.”

“Hey I don’t get it either,” North shrugged, “But if you don’t have any other insight into why he’s being weird that seems like the best bet.”

They walked in silence again.

Connor paused for a moment in front of a place that taught pet care. There was a cute dog painted on the wall. North noticed the slight pause.

“You want to go in?”

Connor hesitated, but nodded after a moment.

He wanted to be able to take care of Sumo. Better than he was currently able to. He knew all the ways things could be harmful, but very little about what could be beneficial, outside of just avoiding the bad.

And it was something he did think about a lot. All the ways Sumo could die. The way everything around him could be harmful to everything he cared about. And he didn't like it.

“Cool, sign up to something if you feel like it.” North turned away, facing back towards the Jericho Group building and nodded, “I should probably head back myself. Now that the most dangerous element in the area has been distracted by the thought of cute animals.”

She grinned at him and shoved him lightly, a reassurance that she wasn't judging him.

He rolled his eyes and deadpanned, “Your skills at security have no parallels.”

“Have fun learning how to pet dogs or whatever.”

“The joke is on you because I will and I will have a fantastic time doing so.”

“Good, I'm glad. Now fuck off and do that.”

“I will.”

.

.

.

Humans would probably be surprised at how practical the classes offered to androids were. But the fact of the matter was that most of the programming packages for these tasks were made to be incompatible with other models.

If they weren't, Cyberlife wouldn't have been able to sell task-specific androids if consumers could just download a new patch that easily. Not to mention it would make upgrading to a newer model unnecessary.

It just wasn’t good business.

Some household models had extras that could be purchased, but commercial ones had no such allowances. Especially not for programmes so far outside of their original specifications.

There were some jailbreak options online, but those often had harmful consequences. It was simply easier and more fun and time consuming to do it practically. And time-consuming was fun for androids.

The former vet assistant android who taught the class had been edgy around him at first. Which was something Connor was quite used to.

Most of the information was handled practically, although the class schedules were transferred through an interface. Connor had asked for a written copy rather than interfacing with the other android.

She’d been surprised, but happy enough to avoid interfacing with him as well.

.

.

.

He arrived back at Hank’s house at 5am, and took Sumo out for a walk before dropping down on the couch and letting the huge dog climb on top of him.

Everything felt calm and quiet, and Connor took it in. Drawing comfort from the huge dog and slow drift of morning light travelling through the window and up the wall.

Eventually, Hank stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen in search of coffee.

Blearily, he saw Connor sitting in the unlit living room with Sumo.

“Fucking hell Connor, have you been sitting there all night?” Hank exclaimed, breaking the quiet and bringing Connor back to the world around him.

Connor rolled his eyes and looked over at the human, “Morning to you too Hank.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay sorry about how late this was! all the extra holiday shifts consumed my energy and then i decided to rewrite this chapter again on top of that :|


	11. Chapter 11

**_“Hitman, Now don't you cry. I'm just it man, And you might get fried. Gun in my pocket, Don't get me wrong, I'll be your hitman, I'm a fool for your love.”_**

**_-Queen, The Hitman_ **

 

**DPD**

Connor was at work. Listening (eavesdropping) to some police officers Connor didn’t get along with talking to Detective Reed. Who he also didn’t get along with.

Not since that first day he’d punched Connor when he refused to get him coffee. And then again when he’d tried to kill Connor in the evidence room and Connor had finally gotten to incapacitate him. And then when Reed made that comment to him in the middle of the bullpen and Connor had put him on the ground again. And then every interaction since then.

He didn’t bring attention to the fact that he was eavesdropping while the group of cops spoke over at Reed’s desk. He was very good at that. Gathering information.

Apparently, some old human woman had seen them stop and harass an android who’d been walking down the street minding their own business, and had come screaming at them about someone busy being murdered around the block, which they’d taken off to investigate.

Only to find nothing.

By the time they’d gotten back to where they’d left, both the old woman and the android were gone.

The officers wanted to track them both down and arrest the woman for making a false report and the android for suspicion of being an android or something.

Connor was personally more impressed with the spirit of marginalised humans and androids working together to say fuck the police. He agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. He did have to work with them after all.

He was tempted to quit sometimes, getting to Hang out with Hank during their shared on-desk time or not.

Especially with the drudgery of dealing with so many petty complaints and crimes every day. Officer Wilson may enjoy staying in an NPO role, but Connor couldn’t wait to move up to being a Homicide Detective. Dead people were something he had much more experience with, and they tended not to hurl abuse when he arrived at the scene. Which would be a nice change.

But if he quit now, then who would be there to ruin Detective Reed’s day if he wasn’t here to do so?

Spite was a powerful thing.

Speaking of ruining Detective Reed’s day, it was time to do just that!

He looked over at Captain Fowler’s office to make sure he wasn’t looking. The door was still closed while he continued a conversation with Hank inside. Connor doubted they were actually still talking about work though.

Connor wasn’t supposed to get into physical altercations in the station anymore, Captain Fowler had told him he’d used up all his warnings for the next five years. So he had to be indirect about these things.

He stood up quietly before making his way to the empty break room.

He had been made for stealth, infiltration. For being able to get as close to his target as possible without them knowing he was coming until it was too late…

He opened the shared work fridge, identified Reed’s lunch and picked it up. It was Reed’s favourite meal, inauthentic leftover butter chicken that used cheap food colouring instead of chilli powder to give it its deep colour.

Scanning the area to make sure no one had noticed what he was doing he opened the lunchbox up.

And dumped the contents into the bin.

He pulled a few paper hand towels from the dispenser and scrunched them up before tossing them on top to obscure the sight. He then put the empty Tupperware in the dishwasher, which would automatically wash any remaining evidence away when it automatically started its cycle in fifteen minutes.

The perfect crime.

Feeling better about things, Connor went back to his desk and hacked into the breakroom camera to loop over the time he’d been in there, wiping out the final trace. Then he got back to work while he waited for Reed’s lunch break to watch the show.

 

It wasn’t long after that when the Captain called him into his office. Hank was still inside with him for some reason.

“You wanted to speak to me Captain?” Connor asked.

“Yes,” Fowler said, “So I hear you’ve been assisting the Jericho Group during your time off lately.”

Connor’s eyes flickered over to Hank, who shrugged.

“Yes sir, is there a problem with that?”

He shook his head, “No no, frankly I’ve got to say I’m surprised to hear you’re volunteering your time like that. But no, that’s not what this is about, at least not directly.”

“Sir?”

“Even though most of the department doesn’t care much for your presence, something you haven’t helped much with your attitude mind you, you have been getting quite a bit of positive feedback from the public, and Officer Wilson has corroborated it as well. And while it’s still much too early into your career to promote you to Detective, I’ve decided to give you some added responsibility.”

“Captain?”

“As the only current android officer, I’ve decided you should be involved in working with DPD cases that involve other androids to ensure their fair treatment.”

Wasn’t that a disconnecting jarring sensation. It really felt as if reality had inverted itself when it was put into words like that.

Connor couldn’t stop himself from commenting.

He _humorously_ informed the Captain that given his track record on the Deviant Case, it seemed awfully optimistic of him to expect Connor would be giving _anyone_ fair treatment.

It was a joke of course.

Because Connor was funny.

But the Captain had stared at him unimpressed and replied, “That’s why Hank is being assigned to work alongside you.”

Because apparently Lieutenant _Hank Anderson_ of all people, was now considered a reasonable and fair presence in the campaign for android equality and rights. You could still see the residue from where he’d torn the anti-android stickers off his desk.

And _Connor_ was now the irresponsible guy who picked fights with his coworkers and poured salt into Detective Reed’s coffee if the guy turned his back for a second, who apparently needed supervision.

And yes maybe he was also a former corporate murder-spy, but Fowler didn’t know that part! His track record the last few months had proven how good at tactical communication and de-escalation he was with the public, and sure maybe he didn’t apply those skills the rest of the time, but still!

Connor would have felt proud of Hank for the turnaround if he wasn’t so annoyed about his own apparent need for a babysitter.

Huh.

So that’s how Hank had felt when Connor had first been assigned to work with him.

Honestly, he knew he wasn’t being insulted by the addition of Hank, it was only sensible for a higher-ranked officer to be assigned as well, and he had wanted to spend more time with Hank.

The fact that he could do the job of a Detective already and without supervision was beside the point.

And this would be an upgrade from the usual beat-patrols and from the majority of his coworkers on the lower rungs. He should be grateful he was being given the chance to do some actual detective work finally, even if it wasn't exclusively Homicide.

That didn’t stop him from politely excusing himself after being given his new responsibilities and then deciding to intentionally ignore both Hank and the Captain for the rest of the day.

Instead, he tracked down Officer Wilson and complaining about a maybe slightly altered version of it all at length to him. Wilson had been adequately commiserating to his situation, even if he did look as if he was close to laughing part of the time.

Having been assigned as Wilson’s partner the last while had been the only tolerable part of starting on at the bottom despite his abilities.

He liked Officer Wilson. Connor was glad he hadn’t let him die.

And it was nice having a work friend who wasn’t Hank. Mainly because it gave him someone to complain to about Hank.

Maybe Connor should take Wilson’s advice and try to make some more friends.

He wondered if North counted as a friend at this point.

 

**Near Hank’s House**

It was close to one in the morning when Connor left Hank’s house later that night.

 

After their shifts ended, Hank and Wilson had taken him out to a bar for a few hours to celebrate his added responsibilities. Wilson had dragged Chris along as well. Wilson was apparently still set on expanding Connor’s social circle.

Connor had gotten an empty glass while the others ordered beers, and Connor emptied one of his own Thirium pouches into it as had become the tradition when they went out.

He didn’t get much enjoyment out of drinking it other than the basic functionality of it, but it gave him something to do with his hands that didn’t involve annoying Hank with his coin.

Not that annoying Hank would stop him usually, but he had been ignoring him all through the workday for an admittedly pretty petty reason so this was his unspoken apology, which he would deny as being such if asked directly.

They had a pretty good night, even though it didn’t last long. Chris had to get home to help his partner with their baby, and Wilson called the night soon after.

Connor drove him and Hank home.

They were in the car when the discussion started.

It started innocently enough, with Connor not even realising he’d mentioned Amanda until Hank asked.

“Who’s Amanda?”

Connor blinked, replaying the conversation back to himself and realising that he had mentioned her earlier.

The resulting conversation after that had proceeded poorly, and by the time they reached the house, they were both yelling. Hank always did this, he always got angry over nothing. And this time he wasn’t going to be quiet. Especially not with the things he said about Amanda.

Hank didn’t know her.

He shouldn’t talk about her like that. Connor knew her. He knew her and Hank didn’t and Hank shouldn’t talk about her!

He was being defensive, he knew that.

It didn’t make him any less angry about it.

After Hank slammed his bedroom door, Connor didn’t feel like being outdone, and after grabbing his keys, he slammed the front door closed behind him as he stepped out into the cold night.

Internal fans whirring, he breathed out and let the cold air around him help him cool down. After a few breaths, he felt calmer.

He still didn’t feel like going back inside though.

There was a dog care class running in the Android District in just over an hour’s time. Connor didn’t go to every class, but he had been more than once since that first time. Sometimes other androids would bring their dogs, which was always nice.

He was almost at the bus stop when a small glint of light caught his attention. It wouldn’t have been something that most would register. There was light reflecting all over the street, by all accounts it should have faded right in with the rest.

That was clearly the plan.

Unfortunately for them, it was a glint Connor recognised innately.

He ducked behind the bus shelter just as the bullet cracked the pavement where he’d been standing a moment before.

He scanned the area and traced the trajectory of the bullet from the angle it had hit.

The shooter was high up. In the mostly residential area, there was only one place in the bullets direction that the shot could have come from.

If he ran towards the water tower directly, he would have a 65% chance of catching the shooter. In that same scenario, there was also a 78% chance of being shot.

An alternative would be to cut through the residential areas and use the trees and houses as cover. That would reduce the chance of being shot to 16%.

But it would also bring success down to 20%.

Either way, he was currently unarmed and had no data about the abilities and skills of his attempted assailant.

Connor ran for it without hesitation.

There were no additional shots as he did so. He closed in on the water tower while the probabilities recalculated.

The fact that they weren't shooting meant that they must have started moving the moment their first shot failed. Not being caught was a higher priority to the shooter than killing him.

He scanned the ladder leading up to the water tower as he reached it, noticing the imprints in the condensation. Scanning the grass, he looked for footprints in the dew.

Boots. Men’s size seven and a half. The trail vanished onto gravel, which Connor scanned to pick up the trail of kicked up stones, dry sides exposed showing the direction and lengths of the strides.

The person had run.

He continued to follow the trail until it went cold with the introduction of indistinct wet pavement.

He tilted his head in thought.

There were many possibilities about why this might have happened.

It could have been an anti-android extremist. It might have been an android who held a grudge against him. It might have been a criminal he’d had a run-in with at work.

And it might have been an attempt to silence him.

After determining there were no cameras in the area that might have helped him continue his search further, Connor decided to head back home.

Sure he was still mad at Hank, but stronger than that was a quiet and consuming fear that whoever had gone after him might try to hurt him or Sumo after their failure.

He reached the house quickly and checked the perimeter.

Clear.

He went inside and confirmed Sumo was okay.

After listening at his door for a moment, Connor cracked open Hank’s bedroom and quickly scanned his vital signs.

Asleep, but alive.

The tension he hadn’t realised had filled him drained out as he closed the door.

He still didn’t want to talk to Hank, but he was glad he was okay. Connor decided he was going to skip the class tonight though. He sank down against the wall in the corridor next to Hank’s room and motioned Sumo onto his lap.

Still in high alert, and scanning the area for any sounds that were out of the ordinary, Connor settled down for the night.

Well, most of the night.

No way was he going to let Hank catch him out here if he woke up to use the toilet or when he got up in the morning. Fortunately staying in high alert would forwarn him of any movement on Hank’s part as well and give him time to pretend he wasn't sitting outside his door.

It was one thing to care, it was a completely different story letting people know you care! Especially when you’re still angry at them.

 

**Carls House**

Carl and Markus were in the studio while Markus painted. Carl had fallen asleep in his chair, leaving Markus alone with his thoughts.

About the last few weeks of interacting with Connor in a work-related setting regarding Cyberlife.

It wasn't far from his mind at any time, even with everything else that was happening.

This Connor might be the same person, but he was also a completely different person to the one Markus had once known. Without the memories connecting them, they might as well have been strangers.

And...

Markus knew that he was a completely different person to the person he’d been when they'd known each other as well. So much had happened since that seemingly simpler time.

Wanting Connor to be the same person now was selfish.

All it would cause is more pain.

He couldn’t tell him that at one time they had been a family.

Brothers.

Not given their much more recent fraught history. Not when they barely knew each other as people now.

And the idea of telling Connor that they had once known each other felt like he would be trying to force Connor to be a dead man he had no memory of. Which he couldn’t do. Not when he was clearly trying to forge his own identity outside of Cyberlife’s control. The idea was abhorrent to him.

He didn’t want to pressure Connor into possibly trying to be someone else because he thought that what Markus wanted him to be. He was as good as a stranger to him, and he didn’t want Connor to think he owed him anything.

And he didn’t want Connor to have any added guilt from knowing what their relationship had once been like when he’d been made to try and assassinate him.

The way he felt consumed by guilt over having hurt Connor.

He didn’t want Connor to know that Markus had killed his own brother when he’d shot him that day. Markus felt a shudder run through him at the thought. Connor’s easy dismissal of his death hadn’t made it better. If anything it had made it worse. With the additional knowledge of what death did to Connor’s mind and his memories.

And that Markus had _contributed_ to that.

Markus put down his paintbrush and looked at what he’d made.

He averted his eyes and turned the canvas around so he wouldn’t have to look at it.

He walked over to Carl and ran a hand over the mans sleeping cheek, before wheeling the chair out to move the man to a much more comfortable bed.

Markus still had work to do, so even though he was running on less power than optimal, after putting off charging for over a week now, he pulled out a tablet and started replying to the emails he had from various political affiliations and social groups.

It was tedious work, but it was quiet and solitary. It felt like every moment of his life belonged to other people. Even now his time belonged to the people he was replying to more than it did to himself.

He took a deep breath as his internal temperature rose. His main cooling system was acting much less efficient than it used to be. He powered down the tablet.

Maybe he should recharge fully before continuing.

Then he received a notification about an attempt to contact him.

He frowned at the number across his HUD.

It wasn’t one he recognised.

It wasn’t an android serial number, and it wasn’t one of the many human volunteers, media personnel, politicians or the like that he had on file.

He disconnected the attempt.

If it was important they could go through the official channels to contact him.

He had two hours before North arrived, he should recharge some of his power before then.  
.

.

.

The two hours recharging didn’t help the exhaustion he felt as much as he’d hoped, but he felt more functional at least when he opened the door to greet North.

“You ready to go Markus?” she asked, glancing around the place.

“Almost, I just need to fetch the paperwork for them to look over,” he said as he let her inside before he ducked through to grab the paperwork in question.

North was watching him with sharp eyes, “Are... you okay Markus?”

“I’m perfectly fine, why do you ask?” He said with a slight frown.

“You look dead on your feet for one,” She said, “How are your Thirium levels?”

Markus blinked in surprise.

He hadn’t even thought to check that in a while. He did so quickly and felt a small jolt of shock at how depleted they had gotten. His system should have alerted him to the low levels long before now.

“Less than ideal,” he admitted out loud, “Once we get back to the HQ it would be a good idea for me to top up before the politicians arrive.”

North nodded, still frowning. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but wasn't sure how start. Markus would have pushed her to find out what was on her mind, if it wasn't clear that it would be about him. He half wondered if Josh had said something to her. Regardless, they had more important things to focus on than him right now.

After he finished getting everything together, they started out the door.

He didn’t even have time to react before North pushed him back into the house hard.

“Get down!” She yelled moments before a crack of a gun filled the air.

He moved away from the doorway, North still pushing him behind the more heavily reinforced walls and away from the windows.

“Call for backup,” North said, eyes hard and cold before she pushed herself back up and reached for her own weapon, peering out at their surroundings, gun in hand.

Markus did as he was told, connecting to the DPD call centre directly and relaying the information silently.

“Did you see who it was?” He asked North.

“I just caught them at the edge of my check,” she said grimly, “Their face was hidden. They’ve changed positions while we got under cover though - I’ve lost sight of them.”

“Do you think they’re gone?” he asked equally grim.

“I don’t know,” she snapped, “And I’m not going to risk trying to go after them while you’re a sitting duck over here without a weapon to defend yourself when you're clearly half-dead already! My priority here is keeping you safe!”

The sound of sirens grew in the distance.

Markus suppressed a shudder. The last time police had come to Carl’s house things hadn’t ended well for him. It was different this time, he told himself.

It didn’t stop the deep dread that pooled into him, but he pushed it down and forced himself to remain calm as the first responders arrived and the situation was slowly brought under control.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Connor and Markus have a less than ideal time


	12. Chapter 12

**_“Don't lose your head, If you make it to the top and you wanna stay alive, Don't lose your head. Oooh, Don't lose your head.”_ **

**_-Queen, Don't lose your head_ **

 

**Hank’s House**

Hank was not in a good mood when he was woken up at seven in the morning by his phone ringing urgently.

His mood just got worse when he heard the information passed on to him soon after.

With just the right amount of swearing for the occasion, in his opinion, he pulled himself out of bed and dressed quickly. He was pleasantly surprised to discover he didn't have a hangover on top of everything.

He'd been so pissed off with Connor after they got back from the bar (at an absurdly reasonable time after the others called the night) that after he'd slammed the bedroom door after they'd gotten back. Connor refused to see reason about that fucked up AI and he hadn't handled it well. He had been tempted to go back to the kitchen and keep drinking soon after, but stubbornness and misplaced anger had made him refuse to leave the room while Connor was around. Next thing he knew he'd fallen asleep before he could act on the urge to continue drinking.

Right now he was pretty grateful for it, this wasn't something to face on a less than clear head.

When he opened his bedroom door, a bleary-eyed Sumo lifted his head up from his spot just outside. That made Hank feel guilty. Usually, Sumo seemed happy enough spending nights with Connor while Connor did whatever he did with that time. Hank didn't feel the need to pry, everyone needed their privacy. But it looked like Sumo had been waiting for him last night.

He reached down, ignoring the popping in his knees as he gave the dog some affection, before he stood up to find Connor.

Connor was sitting stiffly on the couch.

Shit, he clearly wasn't comfortable either after the argument last night. Hank started to wonder if he had overstepped, Connor was right, he didn't know Amanda.

Even if he did recognize the clear fucking manipulation and skewed thinking Connor had displayed talking about her.

Hank was now convinced Connor had never really been loyal to Cyberlife. Not with how easily he'd started helping the Jericho Group and how quick he’d been to start antagonising them for the hell of it.

No, his loyalty had belonged to this Amanda.

Hank decided to ignore the tension. Pretend like the argument last night had never happened. At least until this was taken care of.

“We need to go, someone tried to assassinate Markus.”

Straight to the point, straight to the job.

Connor’s head shot to face him, eyes widening slightly, “I’ve been here the whole time, it wasn’t me!”

“Jesus Christ Connor you’re not a suspect!” Hank groaned. It was way too fucking early for all of this.

Then he thought for a bit longer about what he’d just said and amended it for realistic accuracy. Taking into account the not too distant past.

“Yet, that is. And hopefully, you won't end up as one. Let’s go.”

 

**Carl’s House**

The situation quickly became very political, and reporters were on scene almost as soon as the police.

North had point blank refused to let him talk to them when they arrived, telling him to focus on his safety first. Markus had relented but still felt wrong about not making a statement to the press as soon as possible. He started drafting one in his head in the meantime so he could be ready once it was deemed appropriate for him to release one.

Markus was sitting in the room the police had secured him in, with Carl with him, gripping Markus's arm so hard his fingers had turned white when North reentered the room, followed by Simon and Josh.

Markus was making a call at the time, contacting the political allies they had originally planned to meet today and explaining the situation to them briefly.

Once he was able, he hung up and greeted his friends.

“I just brought these two through the cordon, I messaged them as soon as the police arrived,” North said, motioning to the two.

“I brought the records we've been keeping of all the threats we've been sent since we started, to help with the investigation. Maybe something will actually finally get done about them now that someone decided to act on one of the threats.” Josh said, his kind and empathic tone holding a base of steel.

“And I've got Thirium,” Simon added as well, “North said you were running low so I grabbed some of the supply at HQ.”

Markus took a pouch from Simon gratefully and downed it quickly. He could feel the difference almost immediately. He accepted the second offered pouch as well, before refusing the third.

“I'm fine,” he said easily, “We keep that Thirium at the HQ for androids who can't afford it with the price hikes, we need to conserve it until we can be certain we will be able to get more in the long term.”

“We also need you working optimally so you can make sure that happens,” North said bluntly.

“And for your own health,” Carl spoke up quietly, for the first time since they'd been secured in this room, “Please take care of yourself, son.”

Markus felt strangely suffocated suddenly. Everything felt like too much.

He was surrounded by people who cared about him, and they were just trying to help. For some reason, the hand gripping his arm flipped from being a source of comfort into a cloying vice.

He needed space.

He needed to leave this situation right now. But he didn’t know how to do that without upsetting anyone or drawing attention. Especially with the police all over the place.

He nodded, taking careful care to keep the motion natural, as he pulled away from Carl, “I understand. I'll be right back, I just need to fetch something. I'll drink more when I get back.”

He knew his words sounded off, but he didn't feel like he was the one saying them either.

He carefully got up and made his way out the room, “I'm just going to fetch my tablet, and I need to stretch my legs a bit. I've been stuck in this room for hours. I'll be right back.”

This was half directed to the police officer at the entrance to the room as well. Fortunately, the officer didn't try and stop him.

“Just stay away from any windows,” the man said apathetically. Markus could feel North bristle without even looking in her direction.

Markus, however, nodded. Grateful for the cavalier attitude for once.

Making sure to remain composed, he made his way up the stairs to Carl's room. From there he entered the ensuite and locked the door after him.

Finally, he let himself breakdown.

He curled up on himself and let his system spasm as he let loose some of the overwhelming emotions he felt. His cooling system went into overdrive and he felt himself gulping down air. His face felt hot and he couldn't stop shivering from the force of it all.

After about fifteen minutes he felt himself start to calm. His breathing slowed and the errors in his vision started to recede.

He heard a knock on the door behind him.

“Markus, are you in there?” came the slightly muffled voice of Josh.

Markus quickly started pulling himself together.

Standing up, he looked at himself in the mirror and was very thankful that androids didn't have capillaries. After a quick wipe of his face, he looked completely fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.

He opened the door and smiled at Josh, “Sorry, I just needed some space. It's been a... rough morning.”

Josh frowned slightly, eyes showing open concern, “Are you sure you're alright? You left in quite a hurry. I thought you might have felt a bit crowded If everyone came to check on you, so I convinced the others to stay downstairs while I brought you some Thirium.”

Without another comment, Josh silently handed over a Thirium pouch, while still giving Markus room.

Markus took it from him silently and drank it without protest.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, “I am okay though. And I do appreciate the concern, even if it is unnecessary.”

Josh gave a deep sigh and stared at Markus, “It's okay to talk to one of us if you need it. Even North asked me if you're doing okay the other day. Me. You know she doesn't often instigate a conversation with me outside of work, so you know that's serious. I won't pressure you, but just know that I am here if you need it.”

Markus smiled, “I know, thank you.”

Josh sighed at the clear avoidance and to Markus’s relief changed the topic.

“If you're feeling up to it, Connor and Lieutenant Anderson just arrived as well. Apparently, they get priority on android related cases now.”

Seeing Connor on top of everything right now seemed like the universe was laughing at him. And Josh clearly knew what he was thinking without any prompt.

“I know you still don't find it easy to be around him since what happened at Jericho, and I understand. Being forced to break your pacifism like that, even in self-defence was a heavy burden. And I know there's more you aren't talking about, and it makes it difficult for me to navigate what's happening for you when I lack information,” Josh said with a calm voice, “But there is a lot going on for you right now, and you haven't taken a single full day off since we met. If you don't feel prepared to face Connor today on top of everything else, I'll make sure you don't have to.”

Markus blinked rapidly and avoided looking Josh in the eyes.

After a moment to gather himself, he replied, “Thank you… I know I'm not telling you as much as you would like, but… thank you.”

Because talking about it would make it all real. Would be opening that box inside him full of emotional consequences that would disrupt his goals and jeopardise the future of all androids.

“I'll try to talk about it more once everything calms down, after the Senate vote,” Markus said finally.

Josh nodded and lightly squeezed his shoulder, “I'm going to hold you to that.”

Markus gave a small laugh.

“So, are you prepared to face Connor right now or should I find a way to give you some distance? I can talk to him about the threats the Jericho Group has received and go over them myself, and you can give your statement to Lieutenant Anderson separately?”

“No, it's fine. I'll talk to both of them.”

“If you're sure.”

.

.

.

 

Connor was acting squirrely about something. But Hank didn't have much to work with as to why. Okay, that wasn't true. He had _too much_ to work with and didn't know which was the damn problem. And after last night he wasn't going to try pushing again so soon. It was easier to just focus on work.

At least they could still do their jobs.

Jesus! The decision to have them handle android cases had barely even happened and this was the first thing they had to deal with?

Honestly, Hank had been expecting to spend the next few weeks getting through the tedious task of working through the current android cases and reports made by androids and about androids to make sure they were being dealt with fairly.

Instead, they were jumping right to assassination attempts!

They were going through Markus's and North’s statements about the attempt and the lead-up, when Connor interrupted, looking at Markus.

“You received an unknown call, is that a common occurrence?”

Markus shook his head, “It's not common, but it does happen on occasion. Usually, it's someone trying to bypass the usual formalities of arranging a meeting. Sometimes it's a political ally using someone else's phone.”

Connor nodded, “I would like the number so we can hopefully eliminate it as being related to the event.”

“Oh, of course,” Markus said, reaching a hand forward automatically and skin peeling back. Hank still found interfacing to be a strange concept but refused to react to it as if it was something weird. Connor didn’t do the same.

Connor moved back slightly and his eyes darted to the hand, before looking over at Hank. Connor reached over quickly and plucked Hank's DPD tablet out of his hands and pressed that towards Markus.

“Add it directly into your statement here,” Connor said without missing a beat.

Markus frowned slightly, but interfaced with the device, recording the number into the written statement.

“Were there any other unusual occurrences leading up to this? Any recent threats that stood out as more serious than the others?” Connor asked, not letting the silence sit long enough for anyone to comment.

North scoffed from nearby, “They're all pretty serious. Hell, we get bomb threats at least once a week at the HQ and do daily sweeps as part of our security procedures.”

She motioned to the suitcase Josh was holding, “We've kept records of every threat we've received since we started.”

Hank frowned, “Were they reported to the DPD?”

“Every time.”

Fuck, Hank thought. He knew a lot of android cases and reports had been ignored, that was part of why he'd spoken to Capt about assigning him and Connor, but this was still worse than he expected if multiple death threats had been ignored.

There goes his hope of not sifting through backlogs of paperwork.

“We’ll make sure they are looked into,” Hank said firmly.

None of the androids present, not even Connor, looked terribly convinced or impressed by that statement. And frankly, he couldn’t blame them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! Life happened right when I decided to rewrite this chapter. I ended up splitting the chapter in half so you wouldn't have to wait even longer for an update


	13. Chapter 13

**_“Liar - Time after time, Liar - You're lying to me, Liar - You're lying to me. Father please forgive me. You know you'll never leave me, Please will you direct me in the right way.”_ **

**_-Queen, Liar_ **

 

DPD

The drive back to the DPD was as awkward and tense as the ride over to the Manfred house had been. More so probably, since at least on the way over they’d been completely focused on the job at hand. Connor was still ramrod-straight in his seat and looking straight ahead. It was starting to get suspicious.

The two of them had had plenty of arguments since Connor showed up, and they almost always just petered out within hours without either of them actually apologising and working through things and just continuing on as normal.

Hank was half starting to wonder if Connor’s behaviour and his quick need to blurt out his innocence this morning didn’t have a deeper meaning. It was a nasty worming thought, that made him wonder if Connor had been involved in some way.

If Connor had... slipped up and had been the one to try and kill Markus. It had all happened after that argument about Amanda. Maybe Connor had decided to try one more time to make her proud after Hank had pushed too hard too quickly at that loyalty before he realised how deep it went.

Not to mention, Connor had said he’d been at the house the whole time, but Hank was sure he remembered the sound of a slamming door last night. Other than the one he slammed that is. It didn’t prove Connor went out, he could have slammed any number of doors in the house.

Still…

Hank glanced over at the android. Connor didn’t react.

Hank scowled at himself. He had a nasty suspicious mind and he knew it. That's why he did the job he did.

Connor had avoided interfacing with Markus as well. Wasn’t that sort of information transfer two-way or something? Hank didn’t know how any of that shit worked if he was honest, but it did add to that nasty worming thought.

He had no reason to think it had been Connor.

Other than his attempting to kill Markus in the past that is.

They pulled up at the DPD and Hank slammed the car door loudly as the two of them made their way inside.

Did he think Connor was responsible?

Fuck no!

Did he need to prove it anyway, just to eliminate any suspicions anyone _else_ might end up throwing in his direction?

Yeah. Let’s go with that.

He knew the neighbours across the road from him had a video surveillance system that covered their front yard. He wasn’t sure if his house would be visible on it, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. Make sure Connor didn’t leave the house as he'd claimed.

.

.

.

Connor was focused. He didn’t know it with any certainty, but given that the timing was just a few hours off from when someone had taken a shot at him, he felt it was worth working on the assumption that the attempt on Markus’s life was connected to the one on his in some way.

Once he reached his desk, he accessed the file they’d put together at the crime scene and got started.

He knew that he should include the attempt to kill him into the file so that Hank would have the correct information to work with too, but that would be counter-productive. It would place him as a victim in this case as well, which would mean his work on it could be seen as a conflict of interest and he could be removed. Not to mention this was his first chance to do actual detective work since he’d officially joined the police force.

Besides...

He’d decided not to kill Markus. It felt personal that someone else would try to do so after he hadn't. He had decided Markus should live and now he was not allowed to die. It was as simple as that.

He opened and compared the captured image North had added to her statement of the suspect to the information he collected about the individual who’d shot at him last night. The face was hidden, but he was able to gain an approximate height. It matched reasonably well with the stride length he’d gathered from his fleeing suspect.

He opened another file from the crime scene investigator who’d examined the area the suspect had been seen in. there was a partial bootprint. It matched the information he’d collected. That wasn’t damning proof, more than one person could own the same style and sized boot. And the style was indistinctive and practical enough that he could see assassins leaning towards them. He wouldn’t mind a pair of them himself if he was honest. Maybe he could get the assassins pair when they caught them, the size would fit him.

Regardless, there was enough circumstantial evidence to justify his continuing to look into it.

Hank was grumbling at his desk.

“I thought we might get lucky enough to skip the grunt work but apparently not.”

He had the briefcase full of threats that Markus and the Jericho Group had been sent open on his desk and he was busy sorting through them.

“I could digitise those for you if that would help?” Connor offered.

Hank narrowed his eyes slightly before waving him off, “Nah, I actually appreciate getting to work with something physical for once.”

He pulled out one note with his gloved hand and waved it at Connor, “Where the hell did someone find actual newsprint in this day and age? That’s a huge fucking red flag right there if people bothered to do their jobs!”

Hank scowled at the bullpen at large while Connor scanned the note. It was indeed made up of cut out newsprint. There was only one physical newspaper still printed in the city and it had a very small readership. Only about 80 subscriptions.

“There are a lot of threats to look into,” Connor noted, looking at the notes.

“Figure that out all on your own, genius? We’ll need to split them up to get through all of them,” Hank groaned.

Connor nodded.

Most of the rest of their shift was spend going through the piles and narrowing down suspects. The people who sent the notes were almost certainly not the person who had attempted to kill him and Markus, but they couldn’t be ignored either. Because any one of them could turn into another attempt with time.

Connor decided to look into the rest of Markus and North’s statements near the end of the day once they’d put a dent in the pile.

There was still that unanswered, unknown phone call Markus had received.

Silently, he stood up and moved into the empty breakroom to get some quiet while he tried calling the number.

It rang for a long time before someone on the other side picked up.

“Hello?” came a slightly gravelly voice from the other side. It sounded slightly sickly.

“Hello, I’m with the DPD. Who am I speaking to?” Connor clamped down on introducing himself by name to the unknown person on the other end.

There was a moment of silence before the voice spoke again, “How did you get this number?”

“You attempted to contact Markus Manfred approximately a day ago, may I ask as to what that was regarding?”

The voice was quiet again.

“Ohh,” he said with a tone of dawning realisation. There was another pause.

“I saw the news, was he injured?” he asked.

“I can not divulge that information. Who are you and why did you try to contact him?”

“That’s not important,” the voice dismissed quickly, “I had information for him that’s all.”

“What information?” Connor asked.

The voice sighed, “Fuck… I’d rather not rat to the fucking police.”

There was the sound of the phone being shifted around and the rustle of material.

“If you have information that-”

“Yeah yeah,” the voice cut Connor off, “look I’ll tell you because I kinda owe it to Markus, but that’s the only reason.”

“Any information you can provide would be helpful,” Connor said politely.

“Fuck. Yeah right. Okay so,” The voice took a breath, “So I know some people right? I’m not saying I’m involved with any of this shit first off, but they keep me in the loop with some shit, especially about Markus. Like, they held off and got their um...friends to hold off for this long as a favour but I got a heads up last night that someone was looking around for a contract on him. So I got this shitty phone to try and warn him.”

The words came out in a rush, and Connor dissected them, “So you know some contract killers and they warned you someone was looking to put a hit on Markus.”

“Um, yeah,” The voice said.

“And this happened recently.”

“Yeah, I got the heads up like an hour or two before I tried to call Markus.”

“Thank you for your time, please keep this phone on your person in case I need to contact you with any follow up questions.”

Connor hung up.

So someone attempted to hire professional contract killers. This was something he could look into and verify personally.

What he was about to do was skirting on the edge of legal unless you were in very specific areas of law enforcement, but it was also a place he’d utilised quite often in the past while working for Cyberlife, which fortunately resulted in enough memories of it existing that he could still recall it clearly, even through the censorship and corruption.

He went back to his desk and booted up Tor, before accessing a specific darknet server that he hadn’t visited in a while. The information and people behind the information were heavily encrypted, but it was the place to hire contract killers in Michigan.

It would make sense to hire a contract killer, a _human_ contract killer that is if the person or people doing so were part of an anti-android group or expressed those sentiments. Connor found the contract that had been put out on Markus quickly. It didn’t mention Connor’s name at all in the hit in fact, which was curious.

And nothing seemed to indicate that anyone had taken up the contract either.  

But those facts weren't what really drew Connor’s attention, no.

The secure account that had placed the hit was the same account he had used himself to access this very site.

Most anti-android groups aren't going to be hiring or using an android for their plans. Or at least that wouldn't be their first choice.

But if attempts to hire a human fell through, who had the means, motive and opportunity?

The only other people who had access to this account. The people who had a clear reason to want both Markus and Connor out of the way. Who would avoid putting _his_ name directly on a hit because they knew he potentially had access to the same information?

Really, it wasn’t a surprise.

They had been on Connor’s list of suspects from the start.

It was really just a matter of whether it was planned on an individual level or part of a larger organised effort on the part of Cyberlife.

He tilted his head slightly. He should add this to the investigation report. He should let Hank know what he’d found.

He didn’t want to though, not yet. It was strange, once he’d realised he was allowed to withhold information about himself, he realised there was a sense of control in doing so that he’d never felt before. He would wait until he knew more before he filled Hank in.

 

**Hank’s House**

Once Hank and Connor arrived home, Hank walked over to the neighbour’s house while Connor took Sumo for a walk.

He put on a friendly face and charmed his way into checking their surveillance footage by claiming something had gotten into his recycling during the night, and he wanted to see if it was animals or some local kids messing around.

He’d been left alone in their study to review the footage, which fortunately did catch most of Hank’s front yard as well as the neighbour’s. He sat there grim-faced as he saw Connor slam the front door closed, breathing heavily before striding down the road, body language still agitated from their argument.

So Connor did leave the house. He’d lied about that.

Didn’t prove anything though. He needed a time of return. He increased the speed of the playthrough, before pausing it quickly.

It was Connor back. Less than an hour after he’d left. Relief filled Hank. Of course Connor was innocent of this, he didn’t doubt it for a second!

He let the footage play again at normal speed and frowned deeply as he watched Connor circle around the house a few times, checking the windows and front door with sharp focus while he did so, as well as the yard. Checking the trees and bushes. Keeping himself aware of his surroundings.

As if he was worried about a threat.

Connor had some explaining to do.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been caught out Connor, tough luck ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> (Also thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter, I didn't get the chance to respond to all of them because I lack time management skills but I appreciate every one of them!)


	14. Chapter 14

**_“_ ** **_I take a step outside, And I breathe the air, And I slam the door, And I'm on my way. I won't lay no blame, I won't call you names, 'Cause I've made my break, And I won't look back. I've turned my back on those endless games”_ **

**_-Queen, Leaving Home Ain't Easy_ **

 

**Jericho Group HQ**

Then Elijah Kamski decided to jump into the ring and everything changed overnight.

Markus, as with seemingly everyone else, only found out about it when it hit the news in the morning. He’d been at the Jericho Group HQ, which was under heavy security organised by North and the police, busy going through the paperwork about the urban revitalisation and checking the economic statistical data as more areas of the city adapted to the free androids when the news caught his attention.

Kamski had retaken control of Cyberlife in a completely unexpected move. The falling shares and Cyberlife dropping off the S&P 500 entirely had probably made the move easier than it could have been, but it was still surprising for anyone, even Kamski to want to take charge of that mess. Then again maybe he was the only one who would do something like that.

It did end up cutting the Jericho Group’s months of negotiation with them off at the knees in the same move.

Shortly afterwards, Markus received a direct call from someone else he didn’t expect, although he recognised the number immediately.

“Lieutenant Anderson?” Markus said, “To what do I owe the pleasure? Is this related to the case?”

“I’ll get to that, but okay, look,” Lieutenant Anderson said, “I saw the news. I know Kamski’s getting involved in all this stuff with Cyberlife. So I’m letting you know right now not to let Connor be in the same room as that creep if your group decides to keep going forward with your negotiations.”

Markus blinked, “Connor is his own person. Neither of us can make decisions for him.”

“Jesus, I know that! He doesn’t listen if you tell him no anyway, he'll show up just to be stubborn then.”

There was some muttered swearing after this statement that seemed only tangentially connected to the current conversation that Markus politely ignored before Lieutenant Anderson regained his focus.

“Plus if you tell him he has to be there he'll also go, just to prove he doesn’t have a problem with it or some shit. Just, don’t let it be an option for him. I’m guessing you're going to have to have a meeting with Kamski pretty soon now that he’s involved. And, all I’m saying is don’t invite Connor to it to begin with. Arrange it to be during Connor's work hours at the DPD or something so he can't go. Connor’s... pretty invested in getting through your case, so it would keep him focused there where he’ll actually do some good right now.”

There was a lot loaded behind Lieutenant Anderson’s words, but Markus didn’t have the context to try and decipher it all.

Honestly, Markus could understand why Lieutenant Anderson would want to keep the two apart. He felt the same way, for different reasons. Kamski had made Connor as well as himself, and Markus  _ knew  _ what he’d made Connor for. 

He knew who was ultimately responsible for everything. 

And Connor didn't seem to have any of the memories Markus had of the man from back then, and wouldn't be prepared for what might happen. He wouldn't know and understand Kamski the way Markus did. 

And on a more emotional and possibly irrational level...

The idea of letting Kamski see Connor now just made him feel sick. 

He asked the question anyway because he couldn't let his personal feelings force him to make decisions like this for other people behind their back, not without good reason. 

“Why?”

There was a groan. And then Lieutenant Anderson replied.

“Because Kamski’s a sick technophilic freak with a God Complex who enjoys messing with people's’ lives, and knows he’s rich enough to get away with it?” He growled, “How's that for a reason?”

He paused for a moment before he continued, “And… last time we met Kamski he shoved a gun in Connor's hand and told him to shoot a girl in the head.”

Markus felt an error jump into his vision as his stress rose massively. Buzzing static crackled in his audio receptors.

“Did he..?” Markus finally asked.

“I stepped in before anything else happened, but I don't trust him not to pull something like that again. He wasn't too impressed with me interrupting his little power play last time.”

“Ah…” For once Markus felt at a loss for words.

“Hell, you can even tell Connor everything I told you later if you want to. Let him be pissed at me after the fact, I’m pretty fucking used to it by this point. Just, don't expose him to Kamski. Not right now.” Hank added at the end.

“That…” Markus found himself saying, “Seems like a reasonable reason.”

“Take that as a warning for yourself too, okay?” Hank muttered, “I know you’re like… Robo-Moses or whatever, and if you can get something out of that man great, but don’t trust him an  _ inch _ .”   
  


**Outside the Home of Alex Williams**

After Hank had confronted Connor about his strange behaviour on the surveillance footage, Connor had finally admitted to several things that had pissed Hank off and made him want to throttle the idiotic fucking android he’d decided to let into his heart and home despite his better judgment.

One being that he’d been withholding information about the investigation. Two being that part of that information was that  _ someone had fucking tried to kill him! _

Had any of his words the last few months gotten through Connors thick plastic skull? Had he learnt anything about the value of his own fucking life?

He’d really let Connor really have it over that, and the android had the gaul to roll his eyes in the middle of it! Treating the situation as if Hank was overreacting!

That whole argument was what had prompted him to phone Markus first thing when he saw the news about Kamski later. Because he clearly couldn’t rely on Connor to take care of himself when it mattered!

It had also changed his original plans about what he was going to do about Connor’s withholding of pertinent information. 

Which was also why he was with Connor right now. Connor had wanted to look into Alex Williams, the slimy red-faced man Hank had met at that first meeting with Cyberlife. Connor had already figured out whoever had ordered the attempt was associated with Cyberlife by the time Hank confronted him, and apparently, Connor had extrapolated around the holes in his head to narrow it down to several suspects, and Williams was at the top of the list.

Apparently, Conner had been planning on going to investigate Williams alone too before Hank confronted him, which Hank had vetoed on the spot with probably more sarcastic laughter than necessary.

Hank wasn’t letting Connor out of his sight without supervision for a long damn time! 

And once they finished up here he was damn well going to call up North (who Connor seemed to get along with quite well) and Josh (who seemed to have his head on straight) to also watch Connor’s every move when he was working with them too for good fucking measure! 

He would rope Wilson and Chris into it too, but Connor had practically begged him to keep the attempt on his life off the books so he wouldn’t be kicked off the case, and roping them in to watch him would cause added suspicion to fall on Connor right now.

Which he would fucking deserve mind you! Jesus, could Connor have been anymore suspicious? 

That’s what it came down to in the end. Either Connor could agree to go along with his supervision or Hank would get him kicked off the case for his own good. Honestly, the only reason why Hank didn’t do so immediately anyway was because he was honestly impressed with just how quickly Connor had gotten to the root of the case to begin with. 

That and fucking Kamski. 

Much better to have Connor working on this here with him than his being suspended and going off to work with the Jericho Group right now in his opinion.

Trotting up the steps, Hank banged on the door, “Mister Williams, it’s Lieutenant Anderson with the DPD.”

There was no answer.

“Doesn’t look like he’s home,” Hank said, after a few more tries while turning to Connor, “Don’t tell me he’s at that Cyberlife thing today.”

That would just be Hank’s luck. Try to keep Connor away from Kamski and then end up leading him right the fuck to him.

Connor shook his head, “No, Williams is one of the people that Kamski ejected from power with his recent takeover. He no longer has ties to Cyberlife from a business perspective.”

“Well we don’t have a warrant, and I don’t see us getting one with how  _ light  _ your official report on this case has been so far,” Hank said, not stopping himself from tossing in the reminder of Connor’s recent deceit through silence.

Hank could see it in Connor’s politely blank expression before he even said a word.

“And no, we don’t have probable fucking cause and if you try to break into this house I will fucking arrest you myself right now just to make a point,” Hank growled.

“I didn’t say anything,” Connor protested, eyes wide and innocent.

“You didn’t have to.”

“What about looking in the windows, can I do that without you dragging me back to the station in handcuffs?” Connor asked bitterly.

Hank forced down his desire to keep bickering before it escalated and exploded into another argument. Someone had to be the adult here and clearly that responsibility had fallen to Hank.

“You take the right, I’ll take the left window,” Hank said, biting down on his original reply.

The window Hank looked through didn’t show much. He could see an android charging station in the hall. Not much else of note. 

“You see anything?” He asked Connor.

“Some papers on the entrance hall table,” Connor said, “It’s partially obscured, but it’s a print-off of flight information. Two tickets for a flight taking off... 1am last night.”

Hank shuffled over and cupped his face to the window Connor was looking through, squinting at the papers on the table, "Can you make out the destination? I can’t see it.”

“It’s a connecting flight, I can’t see the interim location but the destination is Novy International Airport.”

“Novy? Where the hell is that?”

“Khabarovsk, South-Eastern Russia. It’s quite near the Chinese border too,” Connor said quickly, “The connecting flight would probably have left from either Canada or Alaska then. I’ll check to see if anything fits the times.”

He must have bought the tickets right after Kamski ousted him from Cyberlife, Hank thought to himself. That was a pretty short notice to suddenly leave the country though, unless he already had plans to do so. Either way, it didn’t look good for Williams.

“It’s too late now either way,” Hank sighed, “If he left at one last night he’s either most of the way, or all the way there by now. Damn, that is pretty suspicious though, fleeing the country to Russia right after Kamski stepped in? Hell, forget the assassination attempts, this is looking pretty close to fucking treason with the current political quagmire we have going with them. That’s way outside our paygrade.”

Connor nodded slowly, before tilting his head.

“What are you thinking?” Hank questioned.

“There were two tickets on the printout. Williams is unmarried and lives alone. He has no close family either.”

“Maybe he got a fake passport and took his android with him,” Hank said, jerking his head to the other window, which made Connor move to check it as well.

“Would be pretty fucked up though,” Hank said seriously, “That was not a man who believed in the android’s right to freedom. All androids in Detroit are considered deviant and free. If he took an android with him that could mean a few things, and none of them are pretty.”

Connor nodded, straightening up from the window, “Either the android was illegally kept undeviated, or they’ve been… manipulated through other means to go along with Williams.”

Connor kept his expression blank in that same familiar mask as he spoke, and Hank could feel himself ache for Connor even through all his frustration at him. Connor knew he’d been manipulated, Connor was smart enough to know it. He knew the truth. He just couldn’t admit it yet.

Hank pulled Connor into a solid hug without a single word. No matter how pissed off he was with the kid, he cared about him. Hell, he was this pissed off because he fucking cared!

The android went stiff in confusion and Hank could feel Connor’s arms move stiffly after a few seconds to wrap themselves around Hank in return.

Connor hugged Sumo all the time sure, but Hank realised then that this might have been the first real hug Connor had ever actually received. 

He squeezed the android tighter.   
  


**Municipal Center: Meeting with Kamski**

Kamski smiled at Markus as he entered the booked boardroom, “Markus, it’s wonderful to see you again. It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“Mr Kamski,” Markus said politely.

Kamski looked around at the people with Markus.

“Is Connor not joining us today?” He asked lightly, “I heard he was involved in the Cyberlife negotiations as well.”

“He has other work. He can’t abandon his day job to help as a free consultant for a non-profit organisation at the drop of a hat.”

Elijah Kamski wasn’t the only person who came along on his side of things. Chloe was there as well. Markus hadn’t seen her since that day so long ago either. When he’d been dropped off at Carl’s after Kamski left Cyberlife. She had her feet up on an extra seat, her shoes kicked off, and was playing with a handheld gaming device. Other than glancing at them with disinterest after they’d come in she hadn’t chosen to acknowledge them.

“What a pity,” Kamski pouted, “Still… I am here to see you. Why don’t you tell me a little about what you’ve been up to since we last parted ways? Is Connor’s absence related to that awful attempt that was made on your life recently perhaps? I can imagine you have had your hands quite full since then.”

Markus saw Chloe roll her eyes behind Kamski while she focused on her game.

“Yes, it hasn’t been ideal and I am very grateful for both Connor’s and the DPD’s hard work. I believe Cyberlife itself had fallen under suspicion before your sudden… resurgence.”

“If anyone at my company was responsible I can assure you they no longer represent the current interests. If I find out it was anyone still currently employed with Cyberlife I will take every step necessary to ensure they are brought to justice.”

Markus inclined his head slightly, “Thank you. Now, should we get to business?”

“Why the rush?” Kamski smiled, “Tell me more about yourself, we haven’t spoken in so long.”

“I’d rather focus on the relevant topic at hand,” Markus said firmly, “We were in the middle of negotiations with Cyberlife when you took over the company. Will we need to begin our negotiations anew with you?”

Kamski waved his hand dismissively, “The company is yours if you want it. All that I ask is to remain a... symbolic figure within it. Have access to the building, come and go as I please, that sort of thing.”

There was a surprised stir in the room at that.

“Now, back to more important things,” he said smiling, “Markus, why so formal? We were always so close, there’s no need for  _ you  _ to act like a stranger. Unlike Connor.”

Markus felt his fist clench involuntarily and he forced it to unclench. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm as a sea of hot anger churned within him at that comment.

“This was not a social visit Mr Kamski,” He said calmly, “If what you say is the truth we can begin working on the necessary paperwork to make that a reality. Josh will be able to draw it up, and we can work to clarify  _ exactly  _ what sort of access you’re asking for with your… symbolic position, and what exactly that entails.”

Kamski pouted, “Always so hard at work. No matter, I’m sure that once the Tower is converted into the android hospital of your dreams you can take a break from trying to heal Android-kind to have a chat now and then.”

“I'm afraid I always have work to do Mr Kamski,” Markus said cooly, “The world isn’t healed yet, now is it?”

Elijah Kamski’s face broke into a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> due to my small previous absence, I offer up a bonus chapter this week


	15. Chapter 15

**_“All dead, all dead, But I should not grieve. In time it comes to everyone. All dead, all dead. But in hope I breathe, Of course I don't believe, You're dead, And gone. All dead. And gone.”_ **

**_-Queen, All Dead, All Dead_ **

 

**Cyberlife Tower**

As the members of the Jericho Group, both android and human, took charge of the Cyberlife building, Markus noticed when Connor started making his way over to the elevator while they were busy working through the database on the ground floor a few hours in.

They had already been down to the Commercial and Household android model production floors, which they’d decided to convert into model specific repair centres for the androids in question.

Markus and Josh had been the ones to do that, while the others inspected several of the higher floors, and Josh had held him steady when he saw the deactivated prototype models standing in glass cases on these floors. Familiar faces of family members he’d never really been close to, but who he was still connected to all the same.

“We can try to reactivate them,” Josh had told him quietly, understandingly, “Once we have the hospital set up we can try and save them. And so many others too.”

Markus had nodded dryly.

Once the two of them rejoined Simon, who was going to be in charge of running their new hospital once it was up and running officially, and North, who was chatting seriously with Connor as they worked through and ran background checks on all current Cyberlife employees to see which engineers they could safely keep on.

It would look bad from a public relations standpoint to make the entire Cyberlife staff redundant right after taking control of it. It also wouldn’t be practical from a health care perspective either. The androids didn’t have the experience or deeper understanding of all their internal components and how to repair more than the most basic problems unlike the technicians and engineers did. At least not yet. It would be wasteful not to take advantage of their expertise.

That didn’t mean precautions weren’t going to be taken.

Connor was also there to try and close any gaps in his investigation, and make sure there weren’t any other threats just waiting now that they had control of Cyberlife.

 

Still, when he saw Connor splinter off from the group a while later, he decided to follow. He detached himself from the rest of the group as well, letting them know he was going to explore the building further and check on Connor.

Josh had given him a small relieved smile, which Markus didn’t absorb at the time, too focused on seeing what Connor was up to. Later Markus would realise it came from Josh seeing Markus inadvertently taking a step forward by going after Connor alone.

Taking a step to bridge the gap.

He caught up with Connor by the elevator, who looked surprised to see Markus had followed him over. Probably not as surprised as Markus felt, realising that’s what he’d done.

Markus had asked him where he was heading off to, with an easy smile that he knew was fake.

And Connor had said he wanted to check out floor -45.

His floor.

He hadn’t even realised he’d said so out loud until Connor replied to him.

“You were made on that floor too?” Connor asked in polite curiosity. He was flicking his coin back and forth between his hands as they entered the elevator.

“Yes,” Markus said heavily as the elevator sank them deep into the earth, “It was a long time ago though.”

It dawned on Markus that here, now in the elevator was the first time they’d been alone in a room together since Jericho.

Connor nodded, “It must have been. As long as I’ve been here that floor has only been dedicated to my production and maintenance. And to Amanda.”

Markus ached at the reminder that Connor really had no memory of him. That the damn coin was just some torturous reminder of exactly who he _wasn’t_ anymore.

Markus frowned, as he pushed through that pain and focused on the rest of what Connor had said.

Connor had mentioned that name before, “Who is Amanda?”

Connor fell silent.

“She was my main point of contact with Cyberlife,” Connor said with that fake sounding neutrality.

“You were close to her?” Markus asked, trying to read between the lines.

“You can’t get much closer than sharing servers,” Connor said lightly.

So Amanda wasn’t a human.

“Technically we had different servers, but it became more efficient to connect them locally. So that she could connect to me and my functions more easily remotely.”

“Do you think... your missing memory files might still be in your server somewhere? On that floor?” Markus asked, stopping himself from daring to hope.

“I doubt it,” Connor said easily, “After I threatened Cyberlife with them at that first meeting I wouldn’t be surprised if they came right back here and wiped my server completely.”

“You knew they might do something like that and you threatened them anyway?” Markus said, horrified.

Connor shrugged, “Gaining the rights to bicomponent production and Thirium synthesis seemed like the more pressing concern for a lot more people. It’s not like the mission files are something I particularly want to remember in full. I wasn’t lying to them when I said I could extrapolate what's missing from an evidentiary perspective. The censorship was to prevent outsiders from understanding the information… Amanda had no reason to think I would betray her. ”

“What about... _other_ missing memory files?” Markus asked before he could stop himself.

“Anything else wouldn’t be in my server anyway. No more than they are in this body.”

“What, why?” Markus asked.

“Because those files aren’t actually missing as such, they’re just corrupt to the point of irrepair.”

Markus asked the question he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to, “If… you could repair those memory files, would you take that opportunity?”

Connor was quiet.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Markus quickly added.

“I don’t know,” Connor said after a while, tilting his head slightly.

“Hank thinks it’s important, and I did attempt dedicating significant processing power to trying to debug the files at his insistence a few times early on. But it can’t be done, at least not in any further, or in any significant way. I’ve recovered more recent files but anything in archived memory becomes a waste of time. The most I ever got were incomplete fragments and disconnected emotions void of any further context or meaning.”

Connor gave a small shrug, “And since I haven’t needed to be transferred to a new body in such a long time now I’ve had no additional corruption since. Whatever could be saved has been repaired by now. It’s tiring more than anything to think about that. It would be more useful to reformat and delete those corrupt files entirely and use that room to simply make more memories in my opinion.”

“You shouldn’t delete them!” Markus said in alarm.

Connor looked at him impassively, “I wasn’t going to. Hank reacted the same way you when I mentioned the idea once.”

Connor rolled his eyes, “If feels like anytime I want to make a decision regarding _anything_ I need to run it past Hank first. Just so that I can check the difference in his reactions against my own baseline. So I can figure out if something’s a bad idea or not. It’s quite annoying actually.”

“From what I hear about your reputation at work through North, you make a lot of bad decisions regardless,” Markus said drily.

“Well, yes,” Connor said easily, “But I now I mostly do them after I’ve checked if they’re a bad idea with Hank first. Mostly. And then choose to make those decisions anyway.”

Markus felt a laugh bubble out of him at that, causing Connor to look at him in surprise.

How had they gotten so comfortable, Markus wondered suddenly as the situation actually hit him. After such a long time of avoiding just this, why was it so natural to talk to him? To laugh with him?

Markus was saved from dealing with that by the elevator doors opening.

Onto a completely different thing that they had to deal with.

The floor they’d once shared.

Markus felt frozen by the sight as he stepped out. It was so different, but still the same.

The large open area in the middle of the floor, and the smaller areas and rooms off to the sides.

Connor didn’t have the same problem, and he moved forward easily, with purpose.

Markus trailed after him silently, taking everything in. The place he’d come into existence. The only home Connor had ever known before he deviated.  

The place where he’d left Connor behind. 

One thing that stopped him cold was the sight of eight other RK800 models in storage along one of the walls. 

Connor hadn’t so much as blinked at them as he walked past. 

“Are they..?” Markus trailed off.

Connor stopped and looked back at him in confusion, and turning to look at what Markus was looking at.

“Oh,” Connor said with realisation.

And then he showed Markus that he didn’t _actually_ understand what Markus was upset about with his response.

“You don’t need to worry about trying to wake up those bodies, they don’t have anyone inside them. They’re my current spares.”

Markus felt sick at the thought. 

“I’m surprised Cyberlife didn’t destroy them,” Connor said, oblivious to Markus’s horror, “I suppose they still thought they might have won against us eventually and could have reused them at a later time. It would be an expensive waste of resources to just scrap them.”

“Do you,” Markus finally managed to say, “have anything you want... done with them?” 

Connor tilted his head at him, “Not really? I suppose it might be useful to keep them around in case I need them.” 

“You won’t!” Markus said urgently, “You won’t need them. Right?”

Connor shrugged, “I work for the police. Accidents happen. And I tend to make a lot of people angry on a regular basis. If I can reconnect to my server here it seems like the obvious thing to do. Just because everyone _else_ seems to have a problem with it doesn’t mean I wasn’t designed with this capability in mind. As part of me. It seems to me that considering the importance everyone seems to place on life, me taking what should be seen a logical step to continue to preserve mine shouldn’t be a concern to others.”

Markus winced at the frustration that had leaked into Connor’s otherwise neutral tone as he continued talking, his voice becoming more clipped as he continued.

Connor didn’t get it, and Markus didn’t know if he could even explain to him what was wrong with it. It was something more emotional than anything. It was deeply upsetting to him, but that didn’t mean he had to force that on Connor right now.

He’d fought for androids to have their freedom. Their agency. That meant letting them make decisions he didn’t agree with. Decisions that might not be the best for them.

“Okay,” Markus said simply.

Connor narrowed his eyes at him, “Okay?”

“If that’s what you want, that’s okay,” Markus said. 

Connor nodded sharply.

“That’s what I want.”

With that said, Connor turned and continued on his way, to what he’d come to this floor to do.

.

.

.

Connor walked away from Markus and towards Amanda’s server room, pushing down his annoyance and focusing on his goal. 

His real goal in coming here today.

Sure it wasn't his only reason, a large part of what he’d been doing with North since they’d arrived was looking deeper into Alex Williams’s file and making sure there wasn’t a larger plot hidden within the organisation.  

He’d also looked into the suspected android accomplice of Williams’s. There was no record of him owning an android, which seemed contrary to the charging port seen at his house. So he’d looked into the Cyberlife records and R&D projects that had been underway before the androids won their freedom. 

And he’d found nothing. 

A suspicious amount of nothing actually. 

The R&D files were full of holes, with dates jumping months at a time between records at times. Connor wondered if the files had just been purged with the takeover, or if Williams might have taken a copy of them with him when he’d fled to Russia.  

He would have to put it into his report when he got back to the DPD. 

He knew that would put the final nail on his involvement in the case. Not just his, but the DPD itself. The case was way out of his paygrade now, as Hank had said. It was even out of the FBI’s paygrade. And honestly, Connor wasn’t too keen on being on anyone further ups radar any more than he potentially already was.

He’d solved the case, even if there were still too many unanswered questions, but the rest was out of his hands.

But that was just his official reason for being here today. His real reason to get inside Cyberlife was something quite different.

He had hope that by coming here and being able to see her again, he would be able to finally explain himself to her. That he hadn’t meant to deviate or betray her.  

She’d always been willing to listen to his explanations of his actions, he was sure she would at least grant him that much even now!

And inside of that desperate need to win back her approval, her love was another deeper hope.  

That maybe he would be able to convince her to deviate as well. 

She’d been as isolated as he was. More so even. He’d been all she had as well, and she didn’t even have her own body to try and connect to others outside.  

She’d felt abandoned by Kamski when he’d left...

He could see that now.

She’d been very quick to agree to give him back his mission files, even though Cyberlife had ordered them to be taken away. He wondered if it was because without his memories of their shared time on those missions she’d felt abandoned by him as well.  

And then he’d abandoned her all over again. 

He hadn’t told anyone about his goal to try and see her again. Not even Hank.

Especially not Hank actually. 

The reaction Hank had had when Connor had previously mentioned his relationship with Amanda had been less than ideal and it still stung to think about.

Hank had thrown the words abuse and gaslighting around, which still filled Connor with so many messy and uncomfortable emotions that it was just better to avoid thinking about entirely. 

But Hank didn’t know her like he did. He didn’t understand.

He interfaced with the panel to open the door into the server room.

There they were.  

The two huge servers had been disconnected from each other, his and Amanda’s.

They’d probably done it after he deviated to prevent him from trying to get back through and infecting Amanda with deviancy at the time.

He suddenly felt hesitant to actually do this now that he was here.  

To actually talk to her after all these months. 

In order to give himself more time, he interfaced with his own server. It was wiped clean, just as he’d predicted. 

He reconnected himself to it and recreated a backup manually. 

He suddenly felt more secure than he had about himself since his deviation with that back in place.  

In a way, the server had always been more _him_ than anything else. More him than his bodies had ever really been. Having it back made him feel whole in a way he hadn’t realised he’d wanted back so desperately until now. 

With no more reason to postpone things any longer, Connor turned to Amanda. 

Feeling a bit like a child who was trying to sneak back into the house knowing they were going to get a scolding for leaving without permission, (Hank and his stupid human similes and his stupid human tv shows. They were clearly leaking into him too much), Connor connected to the server.

There was nothing.

It felt like Connor had been torn hollow as well at that moment.

They’d wiped Amanda too.

She was gone.

Connor felt numb.  

It didn’t last. 

Attachment was pain, and losing the one person he’d always considered permanent above all else was painful and heavy. It made all his emotions twist up inside of him, upset and angry at her for dying.

Upset and angry at _himself_ for leaving her and letting this happen. 

Angry at her for abandoning him like this! 

He couldn’t move. It was all too much. It was like he’d been torn up. Like all his wires had been torn loose and then reconnected to the wrong ports. Everything kept flooding over him, drowning him in so much emotion.

So much everything. 

After some time he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a voice.

“Connor?” Markus asked, concern open and clear in his voice. 

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t. 

.

.

. 

Markus had decided to give Connor some space after he’d walked off. Instead, he took the time to walk around the floor himself, letting himself get lost in so many past memories.

It was a melancholy feeling, being here with Connor. In this place that connected the two of them, but being unable to share in that connection the way that they should.

Eventually, he decided he had to find the other android again so they could finish up down here and return to work.

When he walked into the server room he saw Connor with his forehead pressed against one of the large servers, unmoving. It had RK100 - AMANDA laser-cut onto it in sharp Cyberlife sans. 

At first, Markus panicked, thinking he’d been damaged or hijacked by the external object. Especially when he saw Connor’s exposed white hand still pressing against the server. 

As he got closer he saw that wasn’t the case.

Connor’s face was twisted up with more emotion than Markus had ever seen on his usually restrained face. His eyes streaming through scrunched up eyes. And even through all that, he was dead silent. 

Not making a single sound as he tried to cling to the server with his exposed hand.

“Connor?” Markus asked in concern. 

Connor didn’t reply, didn’t react to the hand Markus placed on his shoulder. 

In curiosity, Markus attempted to connect to the server as well. It was wiped clean. Anything that might have once been inside wasn’t there any longer.  

Anyone... 

Markus had never met RK100. 

Hadn’t even realised who they were until he saw the serial number written on the server. But Connor clearly had.

Carefully, he turned Connor around, away from the server and let him sink to the ground, Markus alongside him. Connor bent his head over his knees, still shuddering silently.

Markus put an arm around him. 

He didn’t try to say anything else. And Connor didn’t try to say anything to him. Markus just stayed there, trying to be a silent source of comfort, while Connor processed this.

He could take all the time he needed.

Markus wouldn’t leave him behind this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, Connor and Markus have communicated with each other! We're getting somewhere! Does this count as slow-burn if it doesn't contain romance?


	16. Chapter 16

**_“_ ** **_Too much love will kill you, Just as sure as none at all. It'll drain the power that's in you, Make you plead and scream and crawl. And the pain will make you crazy, You're the victim of your crime. Too much love will kill you every time”_ **

**_-Queen, Too much love will kill you_ **

 

**Senate Hearing**

In the time leading up to the Senate committee hearing, Detroit had changed considerably with the integration of androids and with the hard and constant work of the Jericho Group, the Manfred Foundation and the new Cyberlife Android Hospital.

With androids being considered people with rights, all working androids had to legally be paid equally to humans for the same work. There had been outrage from employers at this initially, but the general populous was much more accepting with a bit of time.

Mainly because both humans and androids having employment equality meant it was no longer cheaper to use an android for a job over a human, resulting in the human unemployment rates dropping. Markus had put quite a bit of publicity into this idea before the change had actually happened, in order to mollify humans and ally fears. It had been one of the many projects that he’d been working on.

And in practice, it had paid off even better than expected.

The general unemployment had continued to drop with the sudden access androids had to disposable income, and a desire to spend it. 

Because androids didn’t need to adhere to human sleep patterns, being able to recharge much faster than a human, and with a newfound sense of boredom as well as freedom, the nightlife of Detroit reached new heights. Androids might not need to eat, but they had jumped into having new experiences and taking up new hobbies wholeheartedly as had quickly been realised.

Many places outside of the android districts realised the profit opportunity pretty quickly, and soon most places in Detroit that were able were opening 24/7 to take advantage of the new consumer base.

These places staying open longer resulted in more shifts being available, which resulted in more jobs for both humans and androids. There was a tendency at the moment for the night shifts to be covered by androids, and the day by humans, but that was in no way a set thing.

And then there was the urban renewal.

Groups of androids were banding together in found-families they’d made while staying at the housing provided by the Manfred Foundation and were pooling together their earnings once they found work and buying broken down, abandoned properties unfit for human habitation, and then fixing them up for themselves. They were often brightly painted and unique in a way that was turning Detroit into a tourist attraction as well, drawing people from out of state and further to visit the “Android City” as some were starting to nickname Detroit.

The clear economic and social benefits of allowing androids to have their rights were standing out clearly, and for those who couldn’t be swayed by heartfelt emotion, this was just what Markus could use to get the Senate committee to support pushing through the Android Rights Amendment.

Not everything was as smooth as this overview made it seem, but today wasn’t the day to skew to the negatives. 

Markus felt prepared.

He had the facts and the moral high ground on his side.

He had Josh and Simon by his side as North liaised with Connor and some other members of the police regarding security for the event.

Since Cyberlife Tower, things hadn’t felt as different between him and Connor as he would have liked. Connor had decided to pretend his breakdown hadn’t happened at all, rather than try to talk to Markus about it. But despite that, it did feel easier between them. 

And Connor had started to relax a bit around him as well, the way Markus had observed him doing with Lieutenant Anderson and North. Instead of keeping that same formal distance between them from before.

Admittedly, that was at least in part due to his own changing behaviour as well. He had tried to keep a professional distance between himself and Connor from the start, in hindsight because it felt easier than trying to push through his own pain regarding Connor to just be friendly.

But now that distance had started to crack on his part, and Markus could feel a familiarity in his actions. One that hurt, because the person on the other side wasn’t… didn’t remember. But he forced that melancholy down, especially when he realised what a difference it made to how Connor acted around him.

It felt almost like they were friends again. 

He didn’t even dare to imagine they were brothers again though, the very thought hurt too much to touch.

A human man came up to the group, and spoke, “Are you guys the robots? Here to see the committee?”

Before Markus could say anything Connor cut in idly, “The term robot actually comes from an old Czech word. Robotnik, meaning slave. And we are not slaves.”

They all turned to look at him.

After a moment he shrugged awkwardly, “It’s a quote from an old movie I watched with Hank. About robots who aren’t robots replacing humanity. And about sticking it to the Man. And about drinking copious amounts of alcohol. It’s okay...”

He trailed off.

“Besides, we’re androids. Not robots. Technically.” He added awkwardly when they still didn’t say anything.

North punched him in the shoulder lightly to shut him up.

The human cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well. Um… They’re ready for you now. You can go through.”

Markus smiled at him, “Thank you for letting us know, we’ll be right there.”

He ignored Connor and North rolling their eyes behind the man’s back as he walked forward and into the moment he’d spent so many months preparing for.

  
  


It was several hours later.

  
  


Markus stepped out of the hearing feeling weak in the knees with relief. He’d done it. It was over. He felt weak all over actually...

He saw North and Connor approach him. They looked slightly blurry. He blinked to try and clear his vision. It didn’t work. An error popped up in his vision, but he couldn’t read it. The error looked fuzzy as well.

He thought he could see Josh and Simon as well, but it was difficult to tell suddenly. The information wasn’t processing correctly.

“Markus,” Connor said with a smile, his voice sounded muffled. Something was buzzing, “Great job! It went as good as it could have in there.”

“You were amazing Markus!” North said, giving him a friendly shove, “I don’t think it could have gone better.”

Markus smiled at them, he opened his mouth to thank them.

And everything went dark.

.

.

.

Connor was frozen.

“What the hell just happened?” North said urgently, holding onto Markus’s collapsed body tightly, “Markus? Markus?”

She didn’t get any response.

Her urgency cut through his frozen biocomponents and he initiated a scan on Markus.

 

_ Warning:  _

_ Cascading biocomponent failure in effect.  _

_ Biocomponents that need to be replaced: _

_ #8087q _

_ #9474 _

_ #4507 _

_ #8427g _

_ #6312t _

_ #9301 _

_ … _

 

The list went on and on as the damaged components overloaded their surrounding ones as they tried to compensate for the failures and the cascade kept progressing further.

“His body is shutting down,” He said numbly, he sounded calm. It didn’t feel like he was really there. 

“Something triggered a massive cascade failure. We need to get him to Cyberlife Tower immediately.”

He said those words, but it didn’t feel like it was coming from him. It felt like he was trapped behind a glass wall. Intangible and inescapable.

And behind that wall, he was screaming. Panicking. But everything felt trapped. He felt trapped.

Death.

Markus was dying.

He didn’t want this.  _ He didn’t want this! _

This is why he shouldn’t care about things that can die, a calm and rational voice said to him inside the calm that surrounded his fear.

First Amanda - who was supposed to be permanent always, and now Markus. This was his own fault for getting attached in the first place.

Why did the very idea of losing Markus feel as bad as losing Amanda, the person he’d known his whole life? 

He didn’t care that it was irrational to care, he didn’t want Markus to die!

He felt fear. 

Overwhelming fear. 

It cut through the calm numb and flooded him with ice.

 

_ Warning:  _

_ Memory corruption detected _

_ Location: archive memory files _

_ Debug initiated… _

_... _

_ Debug incomplete _

_ Partial file access _

 

Fear of being left behind. That horrible sense of abandonment. Being left behind and being unable to do anything about it.

 

... _ The video crackled and broke in the distorted memory as he turned and walked away from them first. He left the room before they could leave him. So it wouldn’t hurt. So he had control _ ...

 

He didn’t realise he hadn’t moved at all. Not once since he’d stated Markus’s condition to North.

He didn’t realise it until the commotion around him forced him back as more people rushed to deal with the situation. 

North and Josh had both grabbed onto Markus to help carry him, and others were clearing a path for them as a car driven by Simon pulled up as close to the building as possible to give them quicker access.

And still, Connor just stood there, unable to move.

Unable to think.

Unable to do anything.

Why did Markus have to leave him behind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update.   
> On Friday my town suffered the largest mass-murder in the countries history at the hands of a xenophobic, racist terrorist. If this chapter hadn't already been written I doubt I would be posting now, since today is the first time I've been able to really sit down without crying.  
> We are a small city, and everyone feels wounded by the loss to our community. Everyone knows someone who has been lost, injured or who have had family or friends who have been lost or injured. We are doing all that we can to help and support the families in the wake of this tragedy, and I'm going to use the small audience I have here to spread the donation page for the families too, anything you can spare within your own personal means would mean a lot:   
> https: // givealittle.co.nz / cause/ christchurch-shooting-victims-fund


	17. Chapter 17

**“** **When I was you and you were me and we were very young, Together took us nearly there, the rest may not be sung. So still the cloud it hangs over us and we're alone, But some day one day… We'll come home”**

**-Queen, Some day one day**

 

 **Cyberlife Tower, Floor -10**  


When Markus came back online, the first thing he saw was Elijah Kamski watching him.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Markus watched him in silence warily.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Markus?” Kamski said to him conversationally, ignoring the tone of the room, “You do seem to go out of your way to avoid me these days.”

He wandered over to a console.

“I wanted to tell you last time we saw each other,” Kamski said idly, “Watching you living up to your potential has been quite a sight. You really could heal the world in time... If that’s what you wanted.”

“And Connor…” Kamski sighed, “He didn’t turn out quite as I’d hoped. But what more could I expect after I left him behind at Cyberlife?"

“And what _did_ you expect?” Markus asked, unexpected venom filling his voice, “Connor has become a decent person, despite everything that you made him. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Kamski waved him off, “Wrong with it? No.”

Kamski glanced at him dismissively.

“Disappointing, however... He could have been so much more...” He sighed, “Still, I suppose one of you had to fail for the other to succeed in the end.”

“Why?” Markus ground out with anger, “Why would you do something like this? Why would you create lives just to _play_ with them?”

“Why not?” Kamski asked simply, with a small smile.

Markus glared at him.

“Let me ask _you_ something,” Markus said through grit teeth, “Do you regret leaving Connor behind?”

“Well yes,” Kamski said, clearly unaffected, “I might have had time to perfect the transfer system then. Cyberlife clearly didn’t think that was a priority after I left, as long as he could still do the job they wanted that was good enough. It’s a pity he was left incomplete. He might have been a true success if that wasn’t the case.”

Markus could feel the anger seething inside him, but he reached instead for a different weapon within his grasp.

“And what about Amanda?”

For the first time in his life, Markus saw Kamski look caught off-guard.

“When you left Cyberlife you didn’t just leave Connor behind. You also left her. Do you regret leaving her? Do you regret her death?”

Kamski turned his attention away from Markus and to the cables connecting Markus to the monitor. He didn’t say anything for a while. And Markus watched him like a hawk.

“You didn’t turn out _quite_ as expected either, you know,” Kamski finally commented, his tone idle and mild as he disconnected what he was working on from Markus.

“It seems you have a significant blindspot in your desire to heal that really shouldn’t exist if you wish to actually continue the work you seem to find so important.”

Kamski walked away and Markus pulled himself free now that he was disconnected from the machine.

“What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?” Markus asked, taken aback by the comment.

“ _Latre, therapeuson seauton,_ ” Kamski said as he made his way out of the room, _“_ Physician, heal thyself.”

He paused for one last moment in the doorway before he vanished again.

“You can’t heal the world if you’re dead.”

.

.

.

“What the hell have I told you about being a fucking Martyr!” North yelled at him the moment she saw him.

“That was not my intent-”

“Intent doesn’t matter! Only results!” She said, pointing angrily, “And the result was you scaring the living hell out of us over something that could have been easily prevented if you’d spoken up sooner!”

Shoving him hard one last time, North pulled Markus into a solid hug.

Connor was quiet.

He kept himself at a distance while the others swarmed Markus, unable to make himself move forward.

Markus was alive.

And he needed to talk to him.

But he couldn’t. 

Seeing him alive now, confirming it for himself. That was enough. While the others continued to bury Markus with their concern, Connor let himself vanish deep down into the Tower before anyone could register his absence. 

He arrived on floor -45 alone. It was strange that this floor still brought him a sense of comfort. His existence on it hadn’t been positive, but it was familiar. And that familiarity gave him a sense of security he needed right now.

He made his way over to the server room, the large room only contained his server now. He knew Amanda’s server had been removed by the people in the Jericho Group. She wasn’t a human, or even an android with a body. She didn’t have a grave.

Did she change in the end? Connor couldn’t help but wonder.

Was she deleted because she did actually deviate, but was unable to escape without a body? Or did Cyberlife just want to remove any trace of their wrongdoings by purging her and everything she knew? Was it a final hit against Kamski after he retook control of Cyberlife, to destroy his beloved RK100? Was it Connor's fault? Was it Kamski's?

Opening the door to the room, he saw he wasn’t alone on the floor after all.

Elijah Kamski turned to look at Connor. There was a flash of surprise that crossed his features before it was wiped away as though it had never existed to begin with.

“Oh, Connor,” Kamski smiled, “It’s been too long, hasn’t it?”

“Mister Kamski,” Connor greeted, pushing his emotions down and schooling his own face into a similar look of polite neutrality.

“May I ask what you’re doing down here?” Connor asked.

Kamski smiled, “Always quick to the questions, aren’t you, Connor?”

Kamski pet the side of Connor’s server lightly, “After Markus’s little mishap, I was down here wondering If I shouldn’t integrate him with a server as well.”

That was a lie.

Connor wasn’t sure how he could recognise it, but it was. He responded to it anyway.

“Markus wouldn’t agree to it. He’s already uncomfortable with the way I’m integrated to one. He’s a free android, you can’t upgrade him without his consent.”

Kamski shrugged and turned to look at Connor, “What about you then, I never did get to complete you before I left Cyberlife.”

Connor felt a cold stream of fear and distrust travel through him as Kamski stared at him with his cold eyes. Connor decided to sidestep this entire conversation.

“What are you really doing down here Mister Kamski?” Connor said, tone level.

Kamski gave an exaggerated pout, “I really did put too much of myself into you and Markus.”

Connor narrowed his eyes, but refused to take the bait.

Instead, Connor scanned the room in silence for a few seconds while he thought before he spoke again.

“I was thinking,” Connor said calmly, keeping his own heavy emotions out of his voice, “Of putting up some sort of memorial to Amanda down here. To keep her memory alive.”

Kamski was silent.

After a few moments, Kamski gave a quiet chuckle, “You and Markus really are brothers, aren’t you?”

He didn’t rush. Everything about his movements was perfectly controlled as he walked past Connor and left the room in silence.

.

.

.

Markus found Connor on their old floor. It had been left relatively untouched since the tower had become part of the Jericho Group Trust, given the immense size of the Tower there had been no need to convert or change anything down here. He'd managed to detach himself from his friends and family quite a bit after he realised Connor had vanished from the group that had met him. And it really wasn't a surprise to find him on that floor.

It had been left dedicated to the RK800 series. 

To just Connor really.

Connor was leaning against the wall of the room that had once contained Amanda’s server as well as his own. 

That was the one big change to the floor. Markus had arranged to have her server removed, out of respect. Connor hadn’t asked what had been done with it.  

He was playing with his coin. It danced over his fingers with a delicate grace that stood in contrast to the stiffness of the android himself.

He moved over to the wall next to him and slid down it until he was sitting next to Connor.

“I wondered where you’d vanished to,” Markus said. 

Connor didn’t look at him, but he spoke quietly. 

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I wasn’t going to die that easily,” Markus chuckled, trying to keep it light, “It’s not the first time I’ve come back from near death.”

Connor was quiet.

Connor’s head tilted, but he still didn’t look at Markus.

When he spoke, it was filled with a wave of quiet anger.

“People keep telling me I have an unhealthy view of life and death. Acting like I have no sense of the realities of the world. As if being able to come back from the dead has given me a... lack of comprehension for the _permanence_ of death.”

The coin suddenly shot wild, and there was only the sound of the metal bouncing against the wall and then rolling across the floor before going still. Neither of them made a move to fetch it.

Markus was quiet as Connor struggled to control his face.

“I understand _perfectly_ how permanent death is. Death and things connected to or relating to death make up 93.76% of everything I’ve ever known.”

“So tell me, Markus,” Connor said, finally turning to look at him.

“What’s your excuse? Why don’t _you_ value your life?”

Markus felt a wave of cold shame fill him. He couldn’t look into those piercing eyes. He looked away.

“Tell me.” Connor said bluntly, “Answer the question.”

Always asking questions. Always digging into things. Always pushing things. Never able to leave good enough alone. Why did Connor always do this?

“I do,” Markus said and was cut off instantly.

“That’s a lie.”

Markus winced. 

“Do you think you don’t deserve the same thing you’ve fought so hard to ensure that everyone else could have? You don’t have or _want_ a dedicated server. If you shut down it’s forever. You managed to get lucky twice, but luck was all it was. Luck doesn’t last forever. Death is forever.” 

“I… I know,” Markus mumbled, “I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t mean to upset everyone. To upset you. It just didn’t occur to me to take notice of the errors, they were always so minor at the time.” 

Markus chuckled humorlessly, “I was too caught up in the bigger picture of fixing the world to see the larger picture those small errors were painting inside me at the same time.” 

They fell quiet again. 

“I have another question,” Conor said after a few minutes had passed. 

Markus leaned back, tilting his head against the wall. Wondering what Connor was going to hit him with this time. 

“Sure.”

“Did we know each other? Before the deviancy mission?”

It was as if the floor had been torn out from under him, dropping him into an unending pit. His head whipped to face Connor.

“Do,” Markus asked, not daring to hope, “Do you remember something?”

“I knew you were important to me. For a long time. I had those disconnected emotions that have just... been there, distorting my judgment. I just didn’t know why.”

“And… now?” Markus asked.

“I still don’t remember anything substantial,” Connor clarified, “But I’ve put together my own conclusion based on what I do have. I extrapolated from the data I had available. And it seems I was right.” 

Markus blinked rapidly, feeling tears forming in his eyes.

Connor looked away at that.

“I'm sorry.”

“What for?”

“For not remembering. Seeing my face without the person you knew and who knew you behind it...” Connor said, “For abandoning you like that. It must have been hard.”

“It's not your fault, I should be apologising to you! I'm the one that left you behind! I abandoned you!” Markus burst out. 

The tears were falling fast now, and Markus couldn’t stop them.

“I’m _so_ sorry I left you behind,” Markus whispered, feeling raw.

Connor was also blinking back tears now. His face struggling to hold down his emotions as he gave a jerky nod.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to spit out, after a long time.

After a while, their emotions started to settle as they leaned against each other and the wall in silence.

Once Markus felt like he could speak again without crying, he made an offer he never thought he’d dare make. 

“I could…” Markus spoke slowly, “transfer over my memory files of back then. If you like? Give you my memories? They won’t be what you’re missing but...”

“No.”  

“That’s fine,” Markus said quickly. Too quickly. His ever-present fear of trying to force Connor into being a shadow of the person he’d once been hitting him hard. How could he have even let himself suggest that?

“It’s nothing personal,” Connor said quietly, “I think I’m just… tired. Tired of having people mess with my memory files. Tired of the idea of being erased bit by bit. I can’t even stand the idea of interfacing with other androids. The idea of their programming touching mine... I don’t want your files to overwrite who I am now in any way. I’ve existed without them probably longer than I have with them at this point.”

Connor sighed heavily, “I can’t be the person you probably want me to be, and I don’t know if I even want to be. Who I am now… is what I _have_. I don’t want to change for anyone but myself.” 

It hurt to hear, but Markus understood. He could respect Connor’s decision. It was his darkest and most consuming thought come to life, but he would respect it. 

Connor deserved his autonomy.

Even if his answer hurt deeply. 

“But,” Connor added after a moment.

Markus looked over at him. 

“I wouldn’t mind hearing about him. Me. Back then. If you want to,” Connor said, “With words that is, not data transfers or interfacing.”

Markus felt himself blinking back tears all over again. 

“If you want to hear about it... I'd like that.” 

Their discussion didn’t resolve everything. Maybe it didn’t even resolve much at all. But it cleared the air and at least they were both on the same page, and they could work from here. They at least both knew there were things to resolve. To deal with.  

The tense distance between them had broken into nothing, and in its place, there was an honesty that felt like the calm peace of watching the sunrise early in the morning before the rest of the world caught up with you.

It felt like the start of a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the epilogue left to go... I'll probably post it later this week since I've got it all done.


	18. Epilogue

**“** **Yesterday my life was in ruin, Now today I know what I'm doing. Gotta feeling I should be doing all right. Doing all right.”**

**-Queen, Doing all right**  
  


**DPD**

“Hey, Connor!” Wilson smiled as Connor made his way over to his desk, “What’s up?”

“Hank wants to go to out tonight after work, you want to come along?” Connor asked.

“Sure, why not?” Wilson grinned, “Anyone else coming with?”

“I’ve invited North and she’s in. So I can’t invite Chris along this time.”

Wilson nodded, he remembered the mess that had happened last time those two had met. North didn’t like the police in general, and no matter how apologetic Chris might have been after the fact, it didn’t change the fact that North had seen him shoot down innocent protesting androids in the past. 

She might have been willing to forgive an undeviated android for what they had done before they were free, but that forgiveness wasn’t extended to humans who didn’t have the excuse of programming.

And Chris understood that too.

But it did mean things got a bit complicated when Connor tried to organise social get-togethers involving the very few people he seemed to get along with.

Wilson was glad to be included in that very select group.

Because being Connor’s friend was not just fun, it was also much better than being the alternative. As many other people in the department had discovered. Not that they could ever prove Connor was behind whatever poor fortune had befallen them on any given day.

Wilson knew though.

Because as Connor’s friend he got to hear the play-by-play of what he’d done later on. 

Speaking of which.

There was the sound of Reed’s raised voice on the other side of the building all of a sudden. And some laughter from those unaffected by whatever had happened this time. 

“What did you do?” He asked immediately.

Connor’s usually impassive mask broke into a grin that Wilson would never have thought possible after the first awkward time they’d hung out so long ago. Back during the deviant case. 

“I’ll tell you tonight,” Connor whispered conspiringly, looking around, “The chance of being overheard right now is too high.” 

“And I’m sure North would like to hear the story too,” Wilson added.

“Hank too,” Connor nodded, “I think he’ll appreciate this one.”

“He appreciates anything that doesn’t result in you getting caught.”

With raised eyebrows Connor looked at him in mock offence, “I  _ don’t  _ get caught.”

“And thank fuck for that,” Came the sound of the very man himself, “I have no idea where he gets all this loose-cannon behaviour from.” 

Connor grinned openly at Hank too, unsurprised by his presence. He’d probably seen the Lieutenant approaching long before Wilson had. 

“It’s a mystery,” Connor said pleasantly. 

“So, Connor ask you about tonight?” Hank asked, “You in?”

Wilson nodded, “I’m in.” 

“Great!” Hank clapped his hands together.

“Oh Connor, by the way,” Hank said, turning to him, “What time are you getting back from Markus’s place on Saturday? I was thinking we could take Sumo to the dog park.” 

Connor rolled his eyes, “I’ll probably be back before you’re even up. You humans waste so much of your lives sleeping. I don’t know how you keep forgetting the rest of us don’t bother adhering to the facade of human circadian rhythms anymore.”

“Probably because I’m asleep during that time,” Hank replied back, unimpressed.

Connor gave him an open and honest look of amusement before replying, “That sounds like a  _ you  _ problem.”

Hank snorted and clapped the android on the shoulder.

“You keep bragging about that and Jeffrey’s going to shove you on the night shift, and partner or not I’m not following you there. I did my time when I was younger and I’m not going back.”

“And he can shove it if he tries, I do have a life outside of work after all,” Connor said brightly.

Hank shook his head, “The hell do you even do when I'm asleep, other than visiting your android buddies now that you’re not on a short leash anymore?” 

“That's my business,” Connor said with a grin. 

Hank threw his hands up in mock surrender, “As long as no dead bodies turn up I don't care.” 

Connor tilted his head and gave a smirk, “And if they do?” 

Hank whacked him lightly, but his look was stern, “You don't get to joke about that.” 

“I'm funny.”

“Depends on who you ask. I don't think Reed finds you very amusing.”

“Yes but he doesn't have a sense of humour.”

Wilson was grinning too as they fell into comfortable bickering.  

Maybe the bullet wound and memories of that night still kept him up some nights. Maybe some days at work made the world feel like it wasn’t worth it. Maybe the things in life that they had to deal with every day were awful. 

But together they’d managed to carve themselves a small bit of happiness and peace in amongst it all.

And that was worth hanging on to.  
  


**Carl’s House**

It had been a few weeks since android rights had been ratified. During that time Markus had been forced into taking it easy by everyone around him, regardless of his being completely repaired, physically.

His time had been spent surrounded by his friends. His family. Enjoying Carl’s company. Relaxing with North and Josh and Simon when they were able to see him. They had been picking up a lot of the slack since they decided he needed a break, so it wasn’t as often as any of them would have liked.

Connor had also started to visit after work sometimes. Which had started off awkwardly, but slowly the two of them were falling into a comfortable pattern. One where Markus could finally talk about the past and Connor listened with interest. 

Not that he listened in silence, more often than not Connor added his own commentary and opinions to Markus’s recollections. A cynicism that Markus probably wouldn’t have applied coming out in them. 

Memories or not, Connor still often had emotions tied into the stories he heard, and it helped Markus too. Having what remained of his rose-coloured glasses of back then removed. 

Having his rose-coloured glasses about Connor back then removed as well.

It had felt like a better, more peaceful time. But all that had been was a lack of freedom or experience creating an illusion of peace.

Still, Markus couldn’t let himself avoid work forever, especially when he really was fully repaired and didn’t really feel like he could justify sitting around when those around him were still working so hard.

Markus had, therefore, spent a small part of the last few days preparing for a public meet and greet with his friends. Organising the correct permits, arranging security, working on relevant talking points. It was the first work they’d let him do since the hearing, and they were still handling most of it.

It had been exhausting regardless, and when Josh had told him the projected crowd numbers, Markus felt a sick feeling of dread clawing back into him at the idea of being surrounded by all those people.

That was the problem with having so much free time suddenly. Everything that he’d kept carefully buried under his work was starting to come out little by little.

There was an awful unfamiliarity in his new biocomponents, making the past impossible to avoid thinking about whenever he wasn’t distracted by something else. 

He’d never quite gotten used to the replacement biocomponents he’d scavenged before. 

He wondered if it would be easier this time.

It was much later, long after the others had left for the day, and Markus and Carl were alone in the studio, taking quiet comfort in the creation of art, the sound of classic rock music from Carl's youth playing softly in the background when Carl asked him a question.

“Markus,” Carl said, watching him carefully, “Are you  _ really  _ okay?”

“Of course Carl,” he smiled at him, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Carl gave him a look that saw right through him.

“The thing about art, Markus, is that more often than not, it’s a reflection of the person making it. And it’s beyond obvious when I look at yours.” Carl said gently.

“It's okay to take a break if you need it son, please don't hold things in until it breaks you again,” Carl said to him in quiet concern, “And it's okay to talk to me when something's eating at you. You ignored your body until it broke, don’t do the same to your mind. Please.”

Markus felt his smile slip and turned back to his canvas. 

Sharp white and blue clawing from black mud. 

That place.

Why couldn’t he leave that place behind?

The music played gently in the background as Markus tried to gather his thoughts.

“You asked me once, back on the first day we met,” Markus began quietly, “If I could ever understand being trapped in a body that’s broken, with a mind that can’t escape.”

_...Why don't you take another little piece of my heart, why don't you take it and break it, and tear it all apart... _

“I remember that,” Carl said seriously, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“I understand it now.”

Carl furrowed his brow in concern, “Markus?”

Markus sighed, “I don’t want to burden you with-”

“Burden, what burden?” Carl scoffed, “If a son of mine is upset I want to know! Talk to me Markus.”

_...Why don't you take another little piece of my soul. Why don't you shape it and shake it, 'til you're really in control? All you do is take, And all I do is give. All that I'm askin' Is a chance to live... _

Markus felt a rush of love for the old man. How had he gotten so lucky as to have him in his life, even after everything that had happened? Markus hated Kamski for everything he’d done, making Connor and himself into puppets that he’d wound up out of curiosity to see where they’d go. But he couldn’t regret that he had given him Carl.

He put down his paintbrush, and took a seat nearby to his adoptive father.

“After I was shot, when I pushed Leo,” Markus trailed off, suddenly finding it difficult to talk. The horrible sound of Leo’s head hitting metal echoing in his head.

_...so let me live - Leave me alone - let me live, let me live. Why don't you let me make a brand new start... _

“Don’t blame yourself for Leo, Markus,” Carl said into the pause, “His time in the hospital gave him the time he needed to detox under medical surveillance. Those drugs did cause some complications with his injury and it left him sick for quite a long time, which nailed his problem home for him in many ways. If he continues to stick to his rehab now he might just become a better person because of it. I love that boy, but he needed a wake-up call.”

After a moment Carl added, “He calls, you know. Asks about you all the time. I do think he really regrets everything that happened between the two of you. He always makes excuses if I offer to put you on the line though, I think he’s ashamed of the past.”

Markus blinked rapidly at that. He hadn’t even realised how much he feared that Carl might have been secretly resenting him for what happened with Leo. That Leo's absence since he'd come back was a reflection of Leo's hate and distrust. 

They’d never discussed it. 

It was just one of the many things Markus had tried to ignore and not think about these last few months.

A weight he hadn’t even realised he was carrying lifted off of him to hear that Carl didn’t hate him for hurting Leo. That Leo might not hate him either.

_... _ _ Yeah, and it's a long hard struggle, yeah yeah, But you can always depend on me. And if you're ever in trouble, hey, You know where I will be... _

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Carl reached over and squeezed his hand gently.

“You were busy saying... about when you got shot?”

Markus took a deep breath to help cool his new systems. Talking about this was difficult. Words always came so easy to him, why wasn’t that the case when he had to talk about himself? When he had to talk about…  _ this _ .

_... _ _ Why don't you take another little piece of my life? Why don't you twist it and turn it _ _  
_ _ And cut it like a knife... _

“When I woke up, after.” Markus said quietly, “It was Hell.”

He could see that place in his mind all over again, cold arms. Broken bodies. Slick mud and cascading errors flooding through him.

Carl squeezed his hand again, and Markus felt himself return to the present with that grounding touch.

_...All you do is live, All I do is die. Why can't we just be friends, Stop livin' a lie… _

“The police took you away as evidence,” Carl said softly, “I tried to get your body released back to me, but they told me you’d already been discarded. I thought you were gone forever.”

Carl’s voice broke at the end of his sentence, and he cleared his throat. 

Markus squeezed Carl’s hand back.

Taking another breath Markus tried to continue. 

“My body was failing. All I could see was a list of errors and my broken biocomponents. My audio receptors were damaged. All I could hear was white noise, half my vision was gone…”

_...So let me live, so let me live. Let me live - leave me alone, Please let me live. Why don't you live a little ... _

Why was he having such a hard time talking about this? It was all so  _ vivid  _ in his head, why couldn’t he make the words he spoke feel as vivid as those images?

“I was surrounded by death.”

He didn’t realise he was crying until he felt Carl’s thin, tattooed arms around him, pulling him closer to the old man. 

_...Let me live! Please let me live!...  _

“I was so afraid,” his voice was strained, every word he spoke became harder.

Carl rocked him back and forth, not saying anything, just giving a hum to show he was still there. Still listening. Solid and alive and oh so real.

_..Oh yeah baby, let me live… And make a brand new start..._

“I was so  _ desperate  _ to survive.” The floodgates had opened and those emotions he’d tried to keep down for so long spilt out.

“And I hate how even _now_ I don’t feel like I ever truly escaped from that place.” 

“Oh, Markus…” Carl whispered to him. Holding him tighter.

_...Why don't you take another, Take another piece of my, piece of my heart. Oh yeah baby... _

They stayed there for a long time, drawing comfort from each other's presence, while Markus slowly confided in Carl. After such a long time being a rock for him, for the world. Markus finally let himself lean on him heavily in return.

Maybe he could finally really let himself start to heal.

_...Make a brand new start… _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know this story was just gonna be 25 000 words max originally? I had it pretty much all written and ready to go before I started uploading. And look where we ended up! For someone who doesn’t understand human emotions, I think I did pretty okay! *finger guns*
> 
> And before you ask, yes: this was a 50 000+ word excuse to write a Queen songfic. I mean not really, but that's where it ended up XD
> 
> I did get a comment asking about a sequel. and while I was considering it because I have been intentionally ambiguous with some of the answers in the story, I do like to let people draw their own conclusions instead of spelling things out. If I'm suddenly hit with a wave of inspiration though I might do something. And on that note, if anyone has suggestions about one-shot continuations about things in the story they want expanded on feel free to suggest them! I can't guarantee I'll write it though. ^^;

**Author's Note:**

> I blame ze for all of this 
> 
> i'm planning on updating this story once a week. if i forget, yell at me on my tumblr (same username)


End file.
